Hug an Angel Mom Today

Today is Pregnancy, Infant, and Child loss awareness day-it makes no difference the age of the child or how they died. Take a moment to think about all the angels that have left us too soon. Hug an angel parent you know and remember, though today is a day of awareness, hope, and light, it is still very hard for a lot of parents. 1 in 4 parents know this feeling all to well. You are welcome to join the Wave of light tonight, by lighting a candle from 7pm-8pm.

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...

Grandparent Grief - Helping Your Grieving Child (part 2 of 3)

Grandparent Grief - Helping Your Grieving Child (part 2 of 3)  Continued from Blog Posting on September 27th,2012..

~ By Margaret H. Gerner

One grandmother told me: Timmie's death is tearing me up, but seeing my daughter, Terry, in such pain is much worse. She is so different. The sadness I see in her eyes haunts me. Nothing pleases her. She's not interested in anything. All she does is talk about Timmie. She tells me she just wants to die so she can be with him. She cries and cries and there isn't anything I can do to make it better for her. I don't know what I'm going to do.

I felt like Timmie's grandmother. While I knew what Dorothy's needs were, and I tried to meet them every way I could. There were times I doubted that anything I did helped. I wanted to "kiss it and make it better;" and I wanted her better now. Without a moment's hesitation, I would have gladly taken her pain myself. I missed my precious Emily, but the feelings of helplessness around Dorothy's pain were even greater.

This is the hardest part of being a bereaved grandparent. There will be times you feel that nothing you do makes a difference. You will think your child will never "get over" this. But remember, the grief will not always be as intense and devastating as today, and your help will be forever appreciated.

The most important thing you can do is to understand your child's grief. If you have never lost a child yourself, then read The Bereaved Parent, by Harriet Schiff or any other book you can get your hands on that will help you to understand the unique, intense grief that is part of the loss of a child. Be assured, your child is not emotionally ill. There is no grief exactly like that which comes with the loss of a child.

There are several factors that make parental grief unique:

Loss of Part of Self - The parent/child relationship is the most intense that life can generate. The child was literally a part of the parent at one time. When you lose a child, you lose a part of yourself.

Loss of Meaning - Children give direction to life. Rearing and providing for them becomes a primary goal. With a child's death, even if there are other children, this goal changes. Life seems meaningless.

Loss of Support - Expectations are that parents will lean on each other and support each other. Parents themselves expect this, but it rarely happens. Each parent is so debilitated by grief that neither has the energy to support the other. One mother said, "It's impossible to lean on a tree that is already bending." Loss of support takes many forms.

Different grieving styles can create problems in a relationship. One may grieve openly, with much expression. The other may grieve inwardly and quietly. It is difficult for parents with opposite coping styles to respect the other's way of grieving. The inward-griever doesn't want to see the constant crying and lamenting of the other. The open-griever doesn't think the other one cares or has feelings. This leads to wrong assumptions and misinterpretations of feelings.

Changes in sexual activities can create problems, too. One may want the warmth and intimacy that intercourse gives them, while the other may suddenly find sex repulsive.

Guilt and blame can also prevent support. One may blame the other for real or imagined wrongs. The one blamed may withdraw with intense guilt feelings. This can create a wedge that may take professional help to resolve, especially if, in fact, one was somehow involved in the death.

 This series is continued in our next Blog Posting – Part 3, on October 5, 2012

Grandparent Grief-Helping Your Grieving Child (Part 1 of 3)

GRANDPARENT GRIEF-Helping your Grieving Child (Part 1 of 3)

~ by Margaret H. Gerner

I am powerlessness. I am helplessness. I am frustration. I sit with her and I cry with her. She cries for her daughter and I cry for mine. I can't help her. I can't reach inside her and take her broken heart. I must watch her suffer day after day.

I listen to her tell me over and over how she misses Emily, how she wants her back. I can't bring Emily back for her. I can't buy her an even better Emily than she had, like I could buy her an even better toy when she was a child. I can't kiss the hurt and make it go away. I can't even kiss even a small part of it away. There's no band aid large enough to cover her bleeding heart.

There was a time I could listen to her talk about a fickle boyfriend and tell her it would be okay, and know in my heart that in two weeks she wouldn't even think of him. Can I tell her it'll be okay in two years when I know it will never be okay, that she will carry this pain of "what might have been" in her deepest heart for the rest of her life?

I see this young woman, my child, who was once carefree and fun-loving and bubbling with life, slumped in a chair with her eyes full of agony. Where is my power now? Where is my mother's bag of tricks that will make it all better.  Why can't I join her in the aloneness of her grief? As tight as my arms wrap around her, I can't reach that aloneness.

What can I give her to make her better? A cold, wet cloth will ease the swelling of her crying eyes, but it won't stop the reason for her tears. What treat will bring joy back to her? What prize will bring that happy child smile back? Where are the magic words to give her comfort? What chapter in Dr. Spock tells me how to do this? He has told me everything else I've needed to know.

Where are the answers?  I should have them.  I'm the mother.

I know that someday she'll find happiness again, that her life will have meaning again. I can hold out hope for her someday, but what about now? this minute? this hour? this day?  I can give her my love and my prayers and my care and my concern. I could give her my life. But even that won't help.

I wrote this piece out of deep feelings of powerlessness. It seemed that no matter what I did, I could not take away my daughter's pain at the death of her 3 year old daughter, Emily. Were that not enough, I was devastated by my own grief at the loss of my precious granddaughter.

I could relate to my daughter's pain. I, too, had lost a child. In 1971 my six year old son, Arthur, was killed by an automobile. At that time there were no support groups that I knew of. I didn't know how to grieve or that what I was feeling was normal. I thought I was losing my mind. The psychiatrist I saw after Arthur's death reinforced my belief by giving me drugs for my "depression".

I tried to do what people told me to do; count my blessings and be "strong." That meant not talking about Arthur, not crying, and not expressing any other emotions I felt. The result was five years of distorted, prolonged grief which eventually had to be resolved with the help of a professional who had training in bereavement.

When my daughter lost her child -- that very day in the hospital, with Emily growing cold under my hands -- I swore this would not happen to Dorothy. I didn't know how, but I knew I was going to do everything possible to help her. I knew what she had ahead of her.

I was shattered by Emily's death, but my grief lessened sooner than Dorothy's. Since Emily was not my child, I recovered many months ahead of my daughter. What didn't lessen was seeing Dorothy's pain. That continues, at times, even today.

As a parent of a grieving child, you have a unique opportunity to cement a deep and lasting relationship with your child.

ü         You have the opportunity to walk with your child through the most difficult life experience they will endure.

ü         You have the opportunity to help your child in a very special way and the bond that forms will never be broken.

ü         It will not be easy, and the process is long and hard. You will feel powerless, frustrated and helpless many times.

But you CAN help!

~ Reprinted from "Centering Corporation pamphlet For Bereaved Grandparents".
 This series is continued in our next Blog Posting – Part 2 of 3, on October 1, 2012

When a Child Dies - The parent-child bond lives on

~ by Cherie Houston

I think most parents will agree that the parent-child bond is one of the most meaningful and strongest relationships that we have or will ever experience.  For those of us who have had the painful experience of losing a child, most of us will tell you that despite their death, that strong incredible parent-child bond lives on forever…

Personally I know that with the deaths of each of my three children, I truly felt as though a part of me also died with each of them; but conversely I can tell you that the bond I felt to each of them continues on today and I know that it always will.  For my 2 little girls it’s been quite some time since they died: RandeeMarie died in 1971; Robin Marie 16 months later later in 1972 and sadly, my third child, our 36 year old son Bobby, took his own life quite recently September 19^th, 2009 leaving 2 beautiful little boys and a wonderful wife..  Time does soften the pain, but I can’t imagine any other pain that comes close to that which we experience after the deaths of our children, there simply is none.  And I can tell you I’ve experienced some large “what others might consider life shattering losses” 2 divorces, our home in a fire, deaths of close friends and family members, including my grandmother whom I could never imagine my life without… Yet as horrible as those events seemed at the time, none can begin to compare with the deaths of my children…

It’s simple – as parents, we are simply not meant to outlive our children and when we do, the pain we feel is unimaginable…

And I can tell you from experience that the length of a child’s life doesn’t impact the size of the loss..

·         From the moment we conceive and introduce those around us to this new life that we are expecting as we announce our pregnancy, or if we are blessed to spend many years enjoying relationships with our children into their adulthood – it makes no difference – the death of a child is horrible and often the most unbearable experience of our life… 

·         When the children are young - babies, toddlers or very young, our children’s deaths can change every aspect of our day-to-day life and the emptiness we feel seems insurmountable because so much of what we do each and every day revolves around them and their every need...  

·         When are children are older, teens and young adults - maybe they were getting ready to go into junior high, high school or off to college or their first job – their deaths seems so terribly unfair – we’ve worked so hard to raise them and to have them die just as they are ready to embark on the best and most exciting years of their lives – Why? How can it be that they are now gone and will never be able to reach the potential we imagined for them or that they've worked to hard for...

·         For those of us who have lost adult children – as parents we often experience not only the unbearable loss of our own child but for many of us we have to stand by and watch the heartache and pain that our children’s children and spouse have to deal with; for many of us we often lose not only our child but someone who has become a close and trusted friend with whom we’ve shared an irreplaceable emotional support… 

·         Yes, every child is unique, and for those blessed to have other children – whether it’s one or a dozen, the child we have lost cannot be replaced, and having other children in no way diminishes the painful loss of our child

·         But, for those parents who lose their only child – the loss is different again – some feel they’ve lost their identity - they don't feel as though they are parents anymore, for some they've lost the hope of becoming a grandparent - for many they feel as though their entire future is in jeopardy…

Yes when our children die, a part of our future dies with them, but I believe with all that I am that the parent-child bond lives on forever…

As the pain begins to soften, and it will – hopefully we will each find a way to bring our children along with us into the future..  For some it might be as simple as speaking their name from time to time at family and social gatherings – those who love and care about you will understand (and if not, it’s their problem not yours); for others it will be doing things in their children’s memory – maybe helping others who are ill or grieving; or helping at a school or after-school program; there are no right or wrong ways – but it’s up to us to continue to live the fullest life we can while we are here – that is how we honor their memory… 

As the pain softens, you will find yourself smiling thru the tears as you celebrate their time with you, no matter how long that may have been – because no matter how long, we all agree that it is never long enough…

 

When my child has died, please....

~ Although anonymous, the original writer of this was a woman.

When we say that our children have died, please remember that our “child” can be of any age – it means that we as parent’s have outlived our children – so whether ”our child” was unborn or an older adult in their 60’s, Our love for and hopes for our children start long before they are actually born, so when someone miscarries they have many of the sensations of an eighty year old who has just lost their adult child, as parents  it is expected, that in the ‘natural’ order of things, we will die before our sons or daughters and when that natural order is disrupted, it is devastating to say the least.

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 - whether our child died this year or many years ago.

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 that “my child” 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.

I pray that you will never know or experience this pain and heartache...

Parent & Child - Unique & Special Relationships

There is no relationship like that of parent and child. It is unique and special...

The bond between parent and child is so powerful that its strength endures time, distance, and strife. No loss is as significant as the loss of a child...On the death of a child, a parent feels less than whole. ~ ARNOLD AND GEMMA 1994, 25-27

When a child dies, the sense of absolute emptiness, the lack of wholeness, and the feeling of diminishment after the death of a child are felt by all parents, regardless of marital status; age; language; financial or social circumstances; biological relation to the child; or cultural, racial, or religious background.

Despite the differences among parents, their responses and needs, all have one major need in common-their grief is intense and must be acknowledged.

Yes, you will always grieve to some extent for your child who has died. You will always remember your “baby” - whether an infant or adult child, because no matter their age from the time a pregnancy begins, or circumstance of their death, as parents we all wish beyond wishes that we could smell their smell or hold them in your arms. But as time goes on, this wishing will no longer deplete you of the will to live your own life.  ~ HORCHLER AND MORRIS 1994, 158

What is grieving?

~ by Cherie Houston

Sadly, those of us who have lost children all know that the death of a child is a particularly difficult kind of grief. No parent ever expects their child to die before them. It is out of the natural order of things and it is something that we all agree, should never have happened. But it does happen…
To me, it seems that it’s our own personal previous experiences of loss and grief, which affects the way we grieve for our own child. Whether our child died before they were born, or when they were an infant, young child or young adult, or a much older adult child – age doesn’t matter. We all should remember though that grief is natural and it is our own unique way of expressing how we feel and cope with losing someone who was and is so important in our life. It's OK and it's NORMAL!!!

Some people think that you can only grieve for a child who has been born alive and one that you have got to know, if only for a short while – how totally ridiculous and untrue.. As a parent, we don’t begin to love our children once they enter the world – I think we begin that relationship and that love for them as soon as we know or expect that we are expecting (even if that expecting is through adoption!)… Because of this, grief is every bit as real for those parents whose children die before or shortly after they are born..

By the same token, even though our child that died might have children or even grandchildren of their own, it doesn’t mean that their death will be less devastating to us, their parents. Yes - grieving is different for each of us, but the age and circumstance of our children’s deaths doesn’t matter – they are our children, now they are gone and we have to go on living without them physically here with us. So we grieve..
There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Each of us will grieve in our own way, at our own pace.

Grieving means accepting the reality of what has happened and learning to live with the change that has taken place in our lives and readjusting our dreams for the future. And this acceptance happens slowly...

Grieving isn't about forgetting our child who has died, it simply means we have to find a place for our child in our life and in our hearts. We find a way to remember our child, without losing our breath or feeling that seemingly unbearable heartbreaking pain that we felt when our child first died.

We know, that despite popular beliefs about grieving, that time alone does not heal. We’ve learned, that it is only through this journey of grieving that we begin to work through the terrible heartbreaking pain. For some parents, the loss of a baby or child years ago was not seen as a significant loss and for these parents, their grief may only be acknowledged years later when they least expect it.

It serves no purpose whatsoever to compare or judge the intensity of feelings involved in anyone else’s grief. We have to remember, that we are each different and our journey through grief will be different also ~ but we can and will survive ~ and how blessed we were to have had our children in our lives and for that we can and should be thankful…

WHEN AN ADULT CHILD DIES

~ by Miriam Moss

Who would want to think about the possibility of the death of their adult child? The reality of such a loss turns the world upside-down. Such a death is off time and unfair. Parents, particularly older parents, expect to die before their adult child.

"Adult child" is a strange pair of words. When we think of a child, we tend to think of a very young person who needs care and protection, and who lives under the wing of parents. An adult is expected to be independent, live away from parents and have a family of his or her own. But an adult child, no matter how old, remains a child to the parent. The bond continues throughout adulthood, as both parent and child tend to see the other as important and caring.

The impact of the death of an adult child is profound regardless of how close or strained the relationship, or how far they lived apart, or whether the death was anticipated or sudden. Parents do not want or expect their child to die before they do. But it still happens, maybe to you, to too many middle-aged and older parents. It's been estimated that one in ten parents who are age sixty and over have suffered the loss of one of their children.

When a middle-aged person dies, the surviving spouse and children are often considered the most important grievers. The older parent may be shown less concern by the doctor, the clergy, the hospice, family and friends. Yet, many people we have spoken with have said that the pain of the loss of an adult child can be more intense than the loss of a parent or of a spouse. There is such a special bond, the feelings of loss continue for a lifetime. For the older parent the death of a child is potentially compounded by other losses such as widowhood, retirement, poor health, loss of friends, and limited finances.

When a child dies the future looks different. In spite of the loss, hope for the future can build on the richness of the child's life. Bereaved parents may find solace in trying to fulfill some of the legacy of their child - by setting up a memorial honoring the child and spending time caring for the people and things that the child treasured.

Although time will pass and tears will lessen, the child who has died will always be part of the parent and surviving family. The image of the child persists. It is natural to wish the child back while at the same time you accept the death as real. As you mourn the loss, you treasure the meaning of the child's life. The tie with the child remains. Death cannot end a relationship.

Birthdays, holidays and reunions tend to be bitter sweet as the sense of the presence of the child combines with the keen pain of absence. Memories of good times together recall the loss, but also can provide comfort and solace. It is natural for the bereaved parent to have both a strong awareness of letting go of the child and at the same time a strong sense of holding on.

This article originally appeared in the April 2002 issue of Journeys, Hospice Foundation of America's bereavement newsletter