the happiest dress I'll never wear.

Today is five months since my husband drove me home from the hospital after we lost our baby. I woke up this morning in a slight funk, just remembering the day. I sat with my hand on our memory box, still empty except for papa's letter to the baby and my hospital wristband. I wish I had more in the box to remember the baby by. I have nothing. I never got an ultrasound picture, I had no clothes yet, or little booties or socks or hair clips. I had nothing. The most tangible thing I have is the tiny blue topaz stone I wear around my neck -- the December birth stone. I play with it a lot, I keep it clean, I hold it between my fingers because I have nothing else to touch that symbolizes my baby.

Yesterday we drove on the stretch of road from the hospital back towards where we used to live. It was just a trip to the shopping area in town. I've driven it before, but for some reason, yesterday it brought tears to my eyes. It brought back fresh memories of the day we left the doctor's office, and heard his voice ringing in my ears that this pregnancy probably wouldn't end the way we'd hoped. The look on his face when he stared at the ultrasound machine just a little too long, silently, continuing to move the ultrasound wand back and forth, searching for a heartbeat.

I wore a gray and yellow dress. It was brand new. It was the happiest dress I could find in my closet that day. My mascara was smeared down my face, and suddenly that was the saddest dress I've ever owned.  I tried to wear it once again, to church, not long after we lost the baby. I had to leave church in the middle of the service because of the sobs that could not be stopped. I haven't touched the dress since.

This last Friday was Pregnancy and Infant loss remembrance day. To most people it's just another day on the calendar, and they probably have little idea what the significance of that day is to certain mothers and fathers.

How have you memorialized your baby? I think it's a significant step of the healing process, to find some way to keep that baby's memory alive. A little memento, a photograph or a flower or tree. Something that is important in your house to remember the short yet highly significant life of your unborn child. The holidays are coming up, and it's a bitter sweet time for me. Our baby was due just before Christmas, so my challenge is to celebrate Christmas and still remember my baby. I plan on buying a special ornament, probably an angel or something, to put front and center on our tree this year. Something simple, but important.

little soul

I found these lyrics through another blog about miscarriage. I'm proud of a band for writing a song about the loss of a baby. I haven't found the actual song yet, but this is so touching, especially from the viewpoint of the father.
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Recorded live @ Konk Studios, London
Produced by Ben Mason

Lyrics: Tom, Music: Oswald

I remember the day when I heard you were on your way
tears of joy as we hugged and planned your life on earth
for weeks now we have loved you, never let you out of our thoughts
although you never knew us we needed you a lot

Little soul with a face I’ve never known
Little soul how I wish that you had grown
Little lost soul try to find your way back home
Little soul goodbye

Im so glad now you weren’t a secret that we shared you for a while
You put smiles upon the faces of those we love
If you’re out there I hope you hear me and know that Im your dad
And if you don’t mind could you blow a kiss to your mum

Little soul with a face I’ve never known
Little soul how I wish that you had grown
Little lost soul try to find your way back home
Little soul goodbye

I want to thank you for all you’ve done, the way you made her smile
Forever I will see her in a way that I never have
I only hope now you can guide her and help her through the dark
When she dreams now can you drop by and help to mend her heart

Little soul with a face I’ve never known
Little soul how I wish that you had grown
Little lost soul try to find your way back home
My little soul goodbye

when is happiness ok?

I've never been through this before, so going through the stages of grief is foreign territory for me. The last few weeks have been strange. I've felt more my normal self than I have in months, and it makes me wonder...when is happiness ok? How soon is it ok to go about life normally, and begin dreaming and hoping for the future?

I almost feel guilty for the days that I wake up feeling ok, and even feeling happy. When my little dog makes me laugh, sometimes I feel as if I'm betraying my baby by not grieving it continually.

Someone told me once, always remember the baby, but don't grieve to the point that you become the woman your child would not want for a mother.

But still, I don't know when it becomes appropriate to be happy.

crash and burn

I've recently had to create a project based off a song for a class in school. I chose the song Crash and Burn by Savage Garden. It's been a favorite for years, and somehow while I was working on it, it just fit into the loss of my baby and everything that I've gone through this year. The whole project was cathartic. If you have recently lost a baby, maybe it will help you too.