Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Our Walk to Remember

Scottsdale Shea's 1st Annual Walk to Remember, honoring miscarriages, stillborns and infant deaths. Saturday, October 25, 2008. An event we wouldn't have missed.



The morning was made all the more emotional but also enriching when we saw my doctor and nurse there. It meant so much that they care about the lives of these lost babies. It takes a certain courage to face death, especially when it's from the tiny and pure and helpless.




The kids had a blast. Caidgen wanted to race. Ami wanted to be carried. And, in the mix of it they naturally found outdoor entertainment.







I was overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions when Blue told me about a little conversation with Amie. We told her it was a walk to remember Jackson. She wondered if everyone was there to remember him. I explained that some were, but others were walking to remember babies they knew and loved.
Later, with Blue, she pointed ahead of them and asked if that was the road to heaven... She thought we were walking to heaven to visit the babies.
How I wished it were true. How I longed for such an idea - that had never before crossed my mind - to be feasible. That all the grieving could meet together on a special day and make a trek to heaven where they might spend a few precious moments with loved ones.
Once again I was reminded that Amaris sees a different world than I do.

Thanks for coming, Mom. Even though I cried a lot, I felt like I was being filled with a cooling strength and comfort. We are not alone in our sorrows. The children are not alone in their experiences, both here and beyond.
I'm grateful for events like this that remind me our community is filled with humble, caring people who want to do something to make life easier, better for others.
Thanks to Susan Friedman, the social worker at Shea who did so much to create this event.
The morning's poem -
I walk to remember
The steps you'll never take.
I carry you with me
As I firmly plant my feet.

Our trek started long ago,
Before my belly swelled.
You were a love that grew-
Like butterfly wings that beat.
Your gentle flutters then became
Kicks upon which I would dwell.
And I would talk to you, sweet babe,
About the world you soon would meet.

The sun always shone upon us then-
When you were in my womb.
And I was eager to show you the world
That would have been your home.
How you'd have loved the sun shining-
Blue skies without a cloud.
The autumn leaves turning-
The snow falling all around.
The flowers in summer-
Would have filled your eyes with smiles.
And the rain that might have fallen
Would have caused you great surprise.

You would have travelled far with me-
Holding me by the hand,
And I'd have shown you all I could-
More than I can imagine.

You hold my HEART tightly now,
As though we're holding hands.
How far we've traveled, little one-
And my life with you has been sweet.
For I carry you in my heart,
As firmly plant my feet.

Kathie Rataj Mayo

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Grief Work

My OB told me I have a lot of Grief Work ahead. Well, Blue and I have always been project people so we are trying to keep moving with chores that have been on my to do list for a loooong time. So we restained the wooden playset. The stain repels water and UV Rays. Oh, the joys in living in AZ, where your playground, even needs sunscreen!
Before.

Now. Much better. 3 Days worth of much better.


How Friends Can Help



Barbera should be on the US Government's finance committee. That's what Blue says. She's got mad skills at getting free stuff from businesses. A few weeks ago she called me to make sure I'd be home on a Wednesday morning. Why? "Oh, I'm bringing over a tree," she tells me. She went to our local A&P Nursery and told them about how we lost Porter Jackson and they donated a tree to plant in his memory. She didn't know that it was my favorite type of tree - one that I had been wanting for the backyard for over a year. It meant so much - for some reason making something grow with life is so uplifting for my heart. I love that I look out the kitchen window and see this. I see Jackson.
Ami wondered if he was going to grow inside the tree as it grew. She's got some unique ideas.


Lately she quietly sneaks my camera and photographs us. And why not let her when she's got such skill with head shots?



Saturday, October 18, 2008

I love this girl. Today both she and Cage had 8 am games. With Blue out of town for work i just trekked across the fields to see them both. Can't say they are the best players out there...but at least they look really good! And I got through the whole morning without crying. It helped that no neighbors yelled out where my baby was this week...

I love these cousins. They are so cute. They are alike in their love of posing for the camera. :)
This is Caidgen and Stella on their hike in Greer. That was a nice trip, but hard for me since I had a weekend at that cabin at about 8 months pregnant...lots of memories there. But the kids had a blast and for now that is who's doing the real living in the family.
That's right - it's not a white hat on Blue's head - just his own shaved head. Dear Lord, help us.... JK honey. But not really.

Monday, October 13, 2008

"What Is Dying?"

A Poem sent by a new friend that I met only weeks before we lost the baby.

I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the
morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength and I
Stand and watch her until at length she hangs like
A speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come
Down to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, "There! She's gone."
Gone
Where?
Gone from my sight, that is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was
When she left my side,
And just as able to bear her load of living freight to
The place of destination.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her;
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There! She's gone,"
There are other eyes watching her coming
And other voices ready to take up the glad shout,
"There she comes!"
That is dying.