October 15 is the international day for pregnancy and infant loss awareness as started by Robyn Bear. Many of us will only light a candle at home on that day, but some of you super-mamas out there will organize public candle lightings or memorial walks.
It’s not terribly hard to do, and I have some tips if you want to start a candlelighting or walk in your area:
First, find other grieving moms. A great place to contact is the grief counselor at your local hospital. They will know where the support groups are and can pass on information. Your own OB/Gyn’s office may also know, and if they don’t, find the biggest practice in town and call them.
It’s okay to start very small. Don’t be afraid to just get out of the house. The first year I knew about Oct. 15, I just grabbed my daughters and showed up at the shore of our Town Lake with my candles. I had a few extra, and it was amazing how people would come by and ask what we were doing, and how many of them felt touched by loss and just wanted to stay a few moments and remember, think, or pray. I sent them away with tiny tea lights, the kind you can buy with a bazillion in a package for a few dollars. Now I make a little sign that explains what we are doing to passers by.
If your group is small (under 25), you don’t need special permits any more than you would for a family picnic. Just go. If it grows, you can plan bigger next year, and contact the city and the newspaper and all that. But it’s okay to start small and simple. If you really want to walk and not just hang out, find a hike and bike trail or circle the grounds of a church, and don’t worry about a big event, blocking roadways or police escorts. Just walk. The t-shirts and media attention and hundreds of participants can wait until you’re sure you want to be in charge of an event and all the work that can mean.
Once I start getting a few calls or emails, I tell people who are coming that the best candles are in glass jars, and to let them burn down a bit before arriving, so the wind will not blow them out so easily. You can glue sonograms or pictures to the outside, or use paint pens to decorate them.
One small precaution I take is to buy a bag of electric tea lights just in case we are approached and asked to extinguish our candles. Some city ordinances don’t allow it, especially if there is a burn ban in effect.
I have a list of music that I burn to a special CD and play. I start it at 7:00 and it lasts exactly one hour. These songs are listed in the “Angel Songs” box over on the right hand side. You can listen to snippets right there.
Don’t be intimidated or afraid. Grab a friend, light some candles, and invite others. My little candle lighting has gone from just our little trio to about thirty people in just three years.
Oh, what a troubling day this is, especially if you have yet to bring a baby home.
One of the reasons I started Casey Shay Press was to come up with ways for us to remember and celebrate our babies, even if they were only with us for a few weeks of pregnancy.
Early this year, I created In the Company of Angels: A Memorial Book, which is a record book to put down all your thoughts and hopes and dreams for the baby you lost.
Then, a few weeks ago, a fabulous graphic designer friend created a new bumper sticker for me that reads, “I believe in angels.” It is so beautiful! Go see it!
I encouarage you all to come up with your own ideas.
Plant a tree.
Buy a little baby statue for your yard.
Start a journal or diary of your days with baby.
Donate to the March of Dimes or a SIDS charity.
Start an Oct. 15 (Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day) walk.
Some of the best healing comes through taking real action toward keeping those memories close.
The memorial book is 25% off through May 15 in honor of Mother’s Day in the US. And we are all mothers.
If you want to get your hands on that angels bumper sticker, the publishing company will be giving away 100 of them when they come in during the first week of May. Keep watch on our Facebook page for the giveaway! Once they are in, anyone who buys the memorial book while the Mother’s Day special is going on will automatically get the bumper sticker for free.
When we have so little to remember our babies by, a pregnancy test stick, maybe a sonogram, or just our throughts, anything can mean a lot.
Have the best Mother’s Day you can. It’s okay to be upset and disappointed, to cry or to be angry at what you lost. It’s all part of the recovery. Just don’t let anyone tell you that you are not a mother.
I keep getting behind on comments. I truly apologize, ladies.
Last year, my second little miracle baby, now seven years old, had her first Grand Mal seizure. Since then, we’ve had to work hard to figure out what is best for her — medication or not, special help at school, what we should do. Amidst this, her dad and I have decided to finalize our separation with divorce.
And so, life is a little rough over here. Elizabeth was a twin, and her twin was lost at 10 weeks. When the neurologist first talked to us about Elizabeth’s condition, which involves brain malformations present from birth, she asked, “So what happened when you were 10 weeks pregnant?”
So we don’t know if the loss of the twin was part of what disrupted Elizabeth’s brain development. Or if her twin had it too, and didn’t survive. The nuerologist is continually surprised at how normally Elizabeth has grown and advanced despite a very unusual brain.
Anyway, this is my life. You are here because yours is hard. I only tell you these things by way of apology. I worry I will have to work full time soon, and the site will suffer. I’m working hard to get my publishing company going so it can help me stay focused on this work, books about miscarriage, this site, and helping other grieving moms. It’s struggling too. It’s all a struggle. It may not be enough. I will do the best I can. So will you. Because that’s all we can do.
If you’d like to learn more about Elizabeth, here’s a video I made about her condition.
December 22, 2009 at 1:27 pm · Filed under Grief, Holidays
So many of you are writing me lately. I don’t mind at all, but I do worry about the sudden increase in despairing moms who have lost their babies during what is supposed to be a happy time of the year. The joy and laughter around us can make us feel more isolated and alone. Remember you do not have to put on a brave face, and you can take time away from the big groups to remember what you have lost.
I have a whole section on managing the holidays, but mainly, just do the best you can. It’s all anyone can ask.
A little video reminding us that it is okay to grieve:
Casey Shay Press is the publisher of In the Company of Angels, a memorial book for babies lost to miscarriage or stillbirth.
At this site you will find information and a place to come in your dark and frightened hours. The special features of the site are listed in the next column, as well as topics ranging from causes of miscarriage, to prevention, to when to try again for a new pregnancy.
A Reminder:
The only person who can really tell you what is happening to you is your own doctor, who peers into you with a light and a speculum, who samples your blood or urine, or who presses a sonogram paddle into your belly. If you are in trouble, bleeding, scared, or more depressed than you think you can handle on your own, you must find help. Read and research all you can, but remember that the one-on-one assistance of a real doctor is the only thing that will give you answers that count. If you don't like or trust your doctor, then find one you can.
If your group is small (under 25), you don’t need special permits any more than you would for a family picnic. Just go. If it grows, you can plan bigger next year, and contact the city and the newspaper and all that. But it’s okay to start small and simple. If you really want to walk and not just hang out, find a hike and bike trail or circle the grounds of a church, and don’t worry about a big event, blocking roadways or police escorts. Just walk. The t-shirts and media attention and hundreds of participants can wait until you’re sure you want to be in charge of an event and all the work that can mean.
Empty
Cradle, Broken Heart
