Unexpected Reactions

[Triggers of Christmas-source]

There are certain things someone who hasn't lost a baby would see as mundane.  Yet, those things may trigger someone who does know that kind of catastrophic loss. I've responded to little things like blankets, empty swings, Christmas songs about babies, kindergarten graduations, pregnant women, and so many more little things I never would have expected. It's hard if not impossible to predict those triggers for an outsider, yet they can even take the grieving one by surprise.  

[ultrasounds-source]

For instance, one may see ultrasounds of babies as perfectly normal, not meriting a thought because they are so common.  Yet, to someone like me who has lost 17 babies in a row (a miscarriage, a child death, then 15 miscarriages with no rainbow to be seen), it's often a trigger.  I'd just be scrolling FaceBook, and there was a post filled with excitement and anticipation.  Most could say, "Congratulations" without a second thought. I'd have to wipe a tear and scroll past quickly.  Recently, I went in for a regular checkup. I was asked if a novice at ultrasounds could use me as a test run for her skills.  There was a time I may have found an empty space inside myself triggering.  Now, a fetus and impending loss would trigger me more. 

[doll-source]

Dolls can be very triggering, but possibly not for reasons you may expect.  We have a doll that looked so very much like the baby who passed away.  I've often felt twinges looking at it.  But the doll in the Halloween store that looked like my baby post-autopsy, created for ghoulish entertainment, made me swear off Halloween stores for a long time.  It's only recently that I can periodically step in since I haven't seen one since.  Recently, I saw an ad for a doll made to look like the image of a lost baby or a baby long since grown.  To me, it looked like a dead baby.  Once again, I reacted far more violently than I would have expected.  

[Minefield-source]

These reactions have gotten increasingly rare over time, but the world still feels like a minefield after a war.  You never know when you may step on a bomb, and you pray it doesn't happen at the worst times.  I am thankful to know I will hold my babies again, that families are forever.  But that doesn't stop those mines from creeping \up on me, not entirely.  I wonder if their disappearance will be a sign that I've finally healed.  

Another Angelversary Came and Went

[The tiny coffin I will never forget]

On June 29, as it does every year, the Angelversary came.  My brother had just had a close brush with death when a car hit him while he was on vacation.  He's recovering now and will probably go back to full functionality at some point, which is a miracle.  Mortality was fresh on my mind as I entered the Dreaded Date.  I'd been keeping so busy that I was mostly able to ignore it until it came upon us.  I had one brief crying bout the night before when Mom called and in the morning when I was posting my dread and her pictures on FaceBook.  Mostly, I had held up well.  But I knew the real tears were yet to come. They had to be.  It's part of mourning and loss.  

[Temple-Source]

After that, we were finally able to go back to the temple on Alli's day.  It's either been on a weekend or during COVID for the last free-flow years.  It was good to be able to do that for her, and I thought of her as we did it.  

[4-Wheeler]

Then, after that, it was all about keeping our minds off the pain, as we do every year.  We've been to Lava Hotsprings, Craters of the Moon, Bear Lake, Yellowstone National Park, and several other places on that day, doing anything but stay home and stew.  This time, we went up the canyon near our house and rented a four-wheeler for almost four hours, taking a couple of cousins with us.  Most of it was an adventure as we shot up dirt roads, inhaling dust, as we saw sights like a plane crash zone and an obscure lake we'd never seen before since they are so far off the beaten path.  It was boring and fun by turns.  I think my favorite part, other than spending time with family, was smelling the wildflowers, fields and fields of them with a medley of pungent aromas.  

 

[Her peaceful face not long before she left us, holding a doll that looks like her.]

It wasn't until we got home, and I pulled out Alli's baby book that the tears flowed freely.  They hit like a wall, all the way through her book with her happy face and bright eyes.  The worst part was when I got to her cold, waxen face and that tiny coffin.  Just twenty or so pages in.  Too short a time.  I lost it and cried harder than I have in a long, long time.  But they were good tears, healing tears.  Even with the ending, it will still go down in memory as one of the better angelversary days because we spent it together, I didn't have to mourn another death, and starting the day with the temple visit reminds us we will hold her again and be together forever.  

Close to another Death

[close call-source]

Even as my baby's angelversary looms in a very few days, my dear brother came close to death.  He darted through a dark, apparently clear road in Hollywood to find a restroom and was slammed into by a car.  The officials told him he was lucky.  Almost always, any car-on-pedestrian accident like that in that area results in death.  His step-kids watched the accident and will probably need therapy.  His natural kids and the rest of us could only stand by helplessly as we heard second- and third-hand.  Since his kids had just lost their mom a couple of years ago, I can only imagine how their hearts clenched within them when they heard their dad had been hit by a car and that he was in the hospital with a head and leg injury. Especially the head part.  Too many head injuries don't end well.  

[The Bionic Man in pieces-Source]

After the rest of us heard via FaceBook, Leo's natural children all chatted with him for four hours on a conference call.  I know it soothed their immediate fears of loss to hear him talking and joking with them through the night.  We even heard back from him after the surgery on his leg and his torso.  He's now the bionic man, as his kids joked.  But I'm sure it haunts us all to think how close we came to another tragedy. 

[Cherish the love-source]

Which all brings me back to Tuesday, that upcoming wall of pain.  I'd forgotten that my buddy's husband died just two days before Alli's angelversary (leaving behind her and their two kids), but she reminded me again today with her FaceBook posts celebrating his life.  It's just a rough time for us and for her. But all of these factors, my brother's brush with mortality, my friend's loss, and my own, remind me to cherish the times we have with friends and family.  To be grateful for the loved ones I've been given. To not take for granted a single moment. Also, that late June is just not a safe time to go anywhere or do anything. Kidding about that last part.  But I am truly grateful for the time I have with those I can hold today. 

The Angelversary Approaches

[Count down to death date-source]

We're already setting up plans to do something for my angel's deathdate.  We never like to be home for it.  It tends to pass slightly less painfully when we're anywhere but home.  Last year, we went to Yellowstone.  In years past, we've gone to Craters of the Moon, Lava Hot Springs (with a friend who has since passed away), and just about anywhere else we could think of.  Last year, I was afraid we'd have to skip travel due to the pandemic, and it was depressing.  This year, it's just depressing that the date is coming at all. 

[source]

I used to like June.  It was the beginning of freedom for the kids for summer.  I'd have more time than the rest of the year when I was working all day, every day.  It wasn't yet the hottest time of the year, still technically spring for most of it.  But now, it feels like the whole month has a pall over it, like every day of it marches us closer to the worst day of the year.  

[There should be more color here-source]

This year, we're going up the canyon to do some six-wheeling, zip-lining, and go-kart driving.  It all sounds like fun.  Or would, if it didn't come with that date.  Maybe if we have enough fun, it won't hurt so much.  But if the day passes easily and without a lot of pain, I feel guilty, like I'm not missing her enough.  That seems to be a common problem for people in mourning, that feeling good in the face of days like this doesn't come without a price tag.  Can't we just skip June 29th?  

Happy Mother's Day?

[source]

Mother's Day is one of those holidays that is such a mixed bag for so many people.  It's a time to remember mothers but also a time for mothers to remember children.  For women with darling children all around, or for women who have older children living nearby, it's a time to pull children close as they embrace her and give her gifts from the heart.  For those whose children and/or grandchildren live far away, it's a hard day. For single or married women who never had kids or who have never had the chance to hold any of their kids who came and went, it's often a time to be keenly aware of what and whom they don't have.  For women who have emotionally lost children in whatever way, it's a time of pain and reminders.  For those who have lost a wife and/or mother, it's a day of sadness. For those whose babies have fur, it can be a time of joy and/or sadness, depending on which side of the rainbow bridge they're on.  For women like me who have angel children, it will never be the same.  As with Christmas, we'd like to think of it as a day for simple joy, but that joy can be complicated or absent. 

[source]

But it's also a day to remember and embrace the bond we do have with relatives and friends and animal companions.  It's easy to get so focused on whatever you're doing, whatever feels critical at the time. But times like these, and, ideally, every day, it's a thing of power to stop whatever we're doing and truly just live in the moment.  It's a time to cherish and hold your human children or fur babies close, to not push them away because they don't fit in our schedules.  

[source]

Even just a few years ago, I found myself pushing away from human and animal children alike, finding their clinginess frustrating.  I was busy.  Why couldn't they understand?  I had a dog of my own for the first time and found him annoyingly needy because I'd always been a cat person.  But then, I had a moment of realization.  I was the one who didn't understand.  They just wanted me to love them.  That's all they wanted.  So I opened my heart and fully embraced their arms or paws reaching out.  I found all my love was returned in spades.  It was so worth it.  It somehow hurt so much more to lose a baby to whom I'd given my whole heart. But it was worth it because of those four months of pure joy.  

[source]

I hope that whatever your status as a mother, as a parent, as a child, you can find joy on this day of reminders and, better yet, that you can give joy to those you love most, whether they be here or beyond the veil.  That is, after all, what this day is about.  Happy Mother's day.  

Easter for Me

[Easter of my childhood-source]

What does Easter mean to you? I meant to get this out on Easter, but it's been a busy week.  I grew up loving Easter mostly because of candy, the Easter Bunny, oh, and as a footnote, a celebration of Jesus.  It was just a fun day, and it showed we were close to summer, closer to freedom.  I imagine I wasn't alone in seeing it that way.  It always seemed like a fun, safe, holiday, not nearly as interesting as Christmas, but still passable.  Christmas, meanwhile, was a good day to remember Jesus, yes, but it was also the most fun time for food, family, and giving.  They were important to me, but I didn't have a clear vision of their purpose. 

[Color gone-source]

Just after I lost my baby, the days transformed.  Christmas, with its songs about babies and giving birth, became painful.  Easter became another day to remember when  I'd held my baby.  I watched the joy in everyone else and wondered where mine was.  They both became days when she should have been there, when a third child should have been reaching for the baskets and candy and eggs to dye.  They were days with big holes in the middle, black holes that sucked the life and color out of days around them.   

[The source of love and joy: source]

Since then, I have been making a study of what brings joy and peace.  And what I've learned is it all comes back to the healing hand of Jesus in my life and the lives of others, whether they're fully aware of it or not.  He is the source of all true peace, all true joy.  Joy is a shared happiness.  Our joy grows when we serve and love together.  Now, I see Christmas and Easter as two ends of the same glorious holiday.  They celebrate how He came into this world as a tiny, helpless little one, willing to grow up like the rest of us and willing to suffer our suffering, guilt, and agony, willing to die in pain, and then overcome death, pain, and sin for us, for each of you, for me, for you.  In these two holidays, we celebrate that our love and our life doesn't end here, that we can have joy in spite of our pain, and that we always have hope in the future.  Now, these days are truly days of shared joy, even when they're painful.  Because of these days, I will be with my angel Alli again and forever. Now that I understand them, these holidays mean so much more. 

Another Birthday Come and Gone

[A candle for her birthday-source]

I'm not sure why my angel Alli's birthday passed so gracefully, almost (but not quite) painlessly this time.  I always brace myself for a tsunami of pain that these dates--her birth and angelversary--always bring with them.  I expect the worst.  But this time, I was so busy leading up to and through her birthday, that it mostly just played in the back of my mind.  

[Hairy Baby]

Part of it may also be that I do have babies.  I never got my rainbow baby, the baby after loss.  I only had miscarriage after miscarriage to the point that I lost count.  I think we had somewhere around 15 before I gave up trying.  But I have filled the hole she left behind with fur babies, small, loving, friends that are much easier to acquire than a human baby.  I adore my cats.  I love my older dogs.  But when I think baby, I think of my Pom Bean, who I raised from birth.  He's my faithful, adoring baby who keeps me the busiest.  This really hit home when he was gone for a day to get his baby teeth pulled, and the house got so quiet.  

[Busy-source]

Obviously, a dog or cat cannot truly fill Alli's place.  A human baby couldn't do that, either.  But between working full time plus a side job and helping with my teenaged kids' needs (since they're home much of the time on Zoom) and writing and caring for my pets, I scarcely have the time to think about my loss and pain.  

[Angel Food Cake for the broken heart-source]

The significance of the date really hit home twice: once when I was writing her FaceBook birthday tribute and once when we were throwing Alli's brief angelversary party by eating angel food cake and going through her baby book.  I'm glad we have these traditions, or I'd wonder if something was wrong with me, that I'd forgotten her or something.  I don't know how I could.  It does make me wonder if there's a third reason that the day wasn't so hard: have I healed?  Is that even possible?  I'd like to think I have.  But there are moments that tell me I'm not quite there yet.  I guess I'll know more when her angelversary comes.