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.
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.
You are.
]]>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.
]]>I hear from the occasional dad after the loss of a baby. Usually he is worried about mom, wanting to know what he can do or say to help. It’s unusual, although it happens, for him to be sad for himself.
For moms who feel the father of the baby is not grieving like she is, remember that in a relationship, the balance dictates that only one of us can fall apart at a time. He may be holding down his grief to make sure he can be there for you, and he may prefer to keep it private.
I assure you that he notices Father’s Day, especially if the lost baby would have been his only child. He may not cry about it, he may not be emotional. And he may not need for you to recognize him on this day, or even be very open to talking about how this day might affect him.
Sometimes, though, dads find ways to express their grief and pain. Gerrit Hofsink lost his first grandson to stillbirth. He has written and produced a song for the baby. It’s a beautiful song — you can hear it here:
http://www.myspace.com/gerrithofsink
And if you love it, you can buy it for $1 here:
Gerrit is working with me on some wonderful tribute projects using the song.
Tom of the UK band Oswald also wrote a song for his child:
http://oswaldtheband.com/littlesoul/
His song is also available for purchase, to benefit grief organizations.
So Dads, this day is for you.
]]>Maybe you were pregnant and recently lost your little one. Maybe you’re in the process of miscarrying now. Or maybe you’re having scary symptoms and fear that a loss may be imminent.
No matter where you are in this journey, you are a mother. You felt hope and joy when you learned you were expecting. You made plans and dreams about your baby’s future. You wanted nothing more than a happy, healthy baby.
This is what all we mothers want. It makes no matter whether you were a mother a few weeks into a pregnancy, or 80 long years of life: you are a mother. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.
On Sunday, we celebrate you. Even when the thought of being a mother is bittersweet, on this day, I like to just remember the sweet.
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Need to connect with other mourning moms? Our Facts about Miscarriage Facebook Group is a new community of women united in our losses, to tell our stories, leave our pictures, and find each other. If you belong to Facebook, join the group and invite others. Joining Facebook is always free.
]]>Before I say anything else, I want to assure you: That’s just fine. You don’t have to feel thankful. You don’t have to count your blessings every single moment. You can, when you need, grieve for the holiday you thought you would have, either glowing and pregnant, enduring jokes about eating for two, or with that new baby, walking into relative’s home to the exclamations over the new family member.
Do not feel you have to save face. Do not feel you have to hide how you feel. And if your family gathering involves pregnant women or new babies, this may be the year to volunteer in the kitchen. I always start cutting onions if I can’t control myself, for the concentration and the excuse for tears.
If you find yourself in a tough situation, look around for a sympathetic relative. Maybe it will be the boys, and you can run off with them to watch a football game rather than fuss over the small children. Maybe it will be a forgotten aunt. Take time to really get to know her this year.
Don’t expect that everyone is going to understand. Your sister-in-law might feel slighted if you don’t want to hold her newborn. Walking out of the room during a discussion of what to name a baby might cause a little stir.
SO WHAT.
Try not to get into any confrontations about it. Just smile and make a simple excuse. Plan ahead so you can bow out of uncomfortable moments gracefully by maybe preparing some complicated dish of your own.
Your years will come. Have faith in that. And while you’re washing dishes or stuck watching UT beat the Aggies, think ahead to that, to your turn, and even if your family thinks you are being dramatic or over emotional, they are your family. You were born into it, and your future babies will be too. Love them even if they don’t understand.
]]>Here you are, and what has happened this year? You’ve gotten pregnant, told everyone, bought seven layettes, and then, the worst happened. You lost the baby.
Now, your dad is saying grace, your mom is smiling over the table at your pregnant sister-in-law, and you want to shove thanks up somebody’s nose.
And that is just fine.
You don’t have to be thankful. You don’t have to cram your anger and disappointment and overwhelming grief inside you like the overstuffed turkey.
You definitely don’t have to oooh and aaah over the new baby in the family, or admire a fat belly, if one is sitting mockingly across the room.
Find your inner peace, take deep breaths, talk to the kinder gentler members of your family, even it it’s just the cat, and realize that this time next year, the entire situation could be reversed, and you will be the pregnant one. Get through this one day, this one dinner, however you can, and remember that you have a long future ahead with bundled babies and doting family–really, you DO!
So go arm wrestle your uncle for the last rum-soaked cherry.
We’re all here too. We’re enduring, we’re NOT thankful, not this year. And that is okay.
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]]>And here you are. Your baby isn’t here. You expected a swelling belly, or maybe even the bundle to be here. Or like me, maybe yours should have been scrawling crayoned rainbows on handmade cards by now.
But, you feel you have nothing.
Think of this way:
How is this different than every other mother? Are mothers whose children die full grown any less mothers because their children are no longer here? Of course not.
You are a mother. You were the bearer of that baby’s future. You brought this baby into the world, however it happened, at four weeks gestation, or full term, in a gush of blood and pain just like every mother does.
Don’t believe for a moment that everything out there isn’t talking about you. It is. And even more so, because you have born a grief that could destroy a mother’s hope–the loss of her child–and you have survived.
It’s your day. Take it to remember your baby. And send up a quiet word of thanks to your own mother, wherever she may be.
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