I realized that I should probably get around to writing this post after discussing loss with a friend this week. She told me that When Solomon passed away, she simply didn't know what to say to me. I know many “close” friends and family have not (and still haven’t) reached out for the same reason. I just want to get this out there that I do not think “Not knowing what to say” is a good reason to ignore the loss of a friend or relative. No matter how uncomfortable it may be for you, what matters most is showing that you care.
Full disclosure, I still have some bitterness to work out but I am not ashamed. Grieving is a process and sometimes it can get a little messy.
I told the nice hairdresser at the salon not to freak out if she ends up with large chunks of hair on her brush. I explained that my hair has been falling out like crazy lately and showed her how my hair is thinning and I am literally balding at my hairline (Picture for reference).
She asked me if I had any children. I know that she could never imagine how hurtful a question like that would be to someone like me.
I was glad to be able to participate in something so thoughtful and beautiful. I saw familiar faces from the support group I have been attending and got to witness a beautiful memorial including testimonials, stories of hope, and even a band who performed a song in memory of the guitarist’ lost daughter. The Forget me not event gifted me with love, respect, and the chance to remember and honor my son, and for that I am so thankful.
It's been fourteen weeks since the unthinkable happened (But who's counting). Almost four months since the day I found out that my sons heart stopped beating. On good days, it seems like it's been years since he's gone. Other days it feels like it was just last week.
Three months may not seem like a long time, but a lot of healing has happened during this time. I've cried myself to sleep and cried out to God countless times. I have questioned every health care provider I came in contact with during my pregnancy, and even questioned myself as a mom. I have been through ups and downs, but today I find myself in a place of acceptance and peace. It is a bumpy road for sure, but I would not be where I am today without my faith in God. His presence and the dogma of his word brings me hope and comfort. His word inspires me to move forward.
I'm sure all of you know by now that I'm a mom with no baby. I mean, how can you forget? I only remind you ever week as I write on my blog about it and my journey of grief.
When I lost my precious baby suddenly a few months ago, in no way did that take away my title as being a mother. To the contrary, I worked hard for that child. I endured nine beautiful (yet hard) months of gestation, I labored for 48 hours, and even had my uterus cut open with a sharp blade and sewn back together like a human doll (no biggie, right?). Here's the thing, No one can tell me that I am not a mom. I have the scars to prove it!! Emotionally and physically, and both are not cute.
Yes, I can see how uncomfortable you are, but you trying to ignore the elephant in the room is making us both feel awkward and personally, I’m possibly annoyed. Look me in the eye, and tell me that you are sorry for my loss. Then, we can quickly move on to the next conversation, for your sake.
Being on maternity leave has given me a whole lot of time to think and browse the internet. I have been reading studies on nuchal cord accidents and have come across a lot of articles and blogs about women who have also experienced the loss of a baby in utero.
There is a lot of information out there that I found every helpful. (However, sometimes it is not so healthy when you are reading sad stories one after another while crying your eyes out.)
Before leaving the hospital, a social worker met with me in my recovery room to have a brief therapy sesh. I am sure they have to do this to make sure moms who lost their baby are not suicidal before being discharged. Anyway, she gave me a purple folder called the grieving packet. I never really gave it a chance until about a week ago when I was going through a particularly hard moment missing my son
I’m not gonna lie, it hurts a little to scroll through my FB feed and see post's of big beautiful bellies, updates on pregnant life (Which I miss so much!), birth announcements, baby pictures, etc. Even if I see a pregnant woman while I’m at the store or out to eat… I can’t help but develop a small lump in my throat.
Thirty six weeks went by and my baby who started off as just a little blob had turned into a perfect little angel. I recall that little angels face at least a million times a day. His perfect face is forever engraved in my mind, and I relive my short time with him every night before bed.
All this time Solomon was forming in my womb, I was growing and cultivating an unconditional love for him that only God could be responsible for. Even though I will never stop loving my angel, the love that grew inside of me cannot simply be erased. As a consequence, I would hate to believe that all that love has only turned into pain. However, I do believe that he has left me behind with something very special.