Capture Your Grief : Day 6 // What not to say

I've had to sit and think for a long while about all the things I wish I didn't hear when Avery first died. I chose "It was God's will" because I feel it caused the most internal damage, though all of the ignorant comments still hurt. I had a hard enough time struggling with my faith and feeling angry at God. When people told me Avery's death was 'God's will' or 'He had a purpose' for it, it felt like they were saying, "God chose to kill your baby. He wanted her to die." Obviously, I know this isn't true, but when you are drowning in the ugliest despair and feeling forsaken, it might as well be. I know God loves me and His hand is on my life. He knew Avery would die, but I don't believe He chose it. Terrible things happen as a result of being a part of this fallen, evil world. It just comes with the territory. For me, hearing that God orchestrated the most horrific nightmare of my life was in no way comforting. It just made my anger worse. I did not want to be in a place where I blamed God for taking Avery. But being told "God had a reason" just exacerbated those thoughts to no end and pushed me further from Him and His healing.

Sadly, it was hard to choose just one statement, because inevitably, careless words always seem to find a  way. I understand that the death of a baby is a very difficult thing to watch someone you know go through, and it's not easy to find the right words. But honestly, a simple "Sorry" will always suffice. A little extra thought and care about your words can help so much.

 I used to write blog posts in my head about 'what not to say.' For some reason, it never happened. I guess this is my chance to share the things I wish I never heard.

This too shall pass.

We've recently experienced tragedy as well because our puppy just died.

At least Daniel doesn't have cancer or something.

Everything happens for a reason.

This will give you such a great sense of appreciation for life.

Maybe something would have been wrong with her if she'd lived.

You'll have another baby.

I can't even imagine THAT.

You have to get over this.

Don't you think you should keep her photos private? People may find them graphic and disturbing.

Was all that pain worth it??

Having a living baby is hard too.

And then the things spoken behind my back that got to me anyway... (I was unsure of whether or not I should share these, but decided to go for it.)

Nicole needs therapy.

Avery doesn't count because she didn't survive.

Don't let her watch your kids, she might hurt them or steal them.

Nicole is dangerous.

I was surprised she was nice to my baby.

How could she still miss her? She never got to know her.


I also came to find, it's almost more painful when they say nothing at all.

Capture Your Grief : Day 5 // Memorial

There are several things that exist in Avery's memory. We have a small shelf that holds special things like her photo and her Molly Bear. A pretty box filled with mementos still sits on my dresser. But I think the one thing that serves as the biggest memorial to her is her grave stone. It's a testament to the world that she was here. It's the most official tangible evidence that she was ours for a time here on Earth. And it rests where she does. Her grave was such a place of comfort and solace in the early raw days. Daniel and I knew she wasn't there, just the shell of her tiny body, but it still made us feel closer to her. Such a peaceful place to sit and miss her. To dream about her 'would have been's.

Capture Your Grief : Day 4 // Treasured item

When you lose a baby, every single thing they leave behind is treasured. No matter how seemingly insignificant, it's all we have left of them. For me, it was a little difficult to choose just one treasured item I have of Avery. I cherish the photos we took of her. I love the small crocheted blanket that was given to us by one of the nurses at the hospital. I love the little pink hat she wore as we held her. But I decided that my most treasured item is her hand and foot prints. They're somehow just different than photos. They're a mark she actually left behind. Unique prints that belonged exclusively to her. It doesn't matter that she was so small. She was a real person, regardless of how short her time here was.

I miss her little hands and her little feet. I can still remember how her hand felt between my thumb and forefinger, the feeling of her little knuckles. The softness of the pads of her feet. I know they look much different now, on her glorified, perfect body in Heaven. Those little hands play and they collect the most amazing, unimaginably beautiful flowers. And those little feet skip down streets of gold, they run without growing tired, and they dance before the Lord.

That's my girl.

  

Capture Your Grief : Days 1-3

October is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness month. For bereaved parents, this is a time to once again fight to break the taboo that surrounds child loss. Society seems to prefer it swept under the carpet, unwilling to face the discomforts of life and loss, but we are here, still loving our children and keeping their memories alive. We want the world to know our babies were here.

CarlyMarie has come up with a lovely way to share our journeys this month, by posting a different piece of our loss each day of October.

Yes, today is the 3rd and I am obviously behind. For Day 1, I have to say it's impossible for me. Getting up early enough to catch the sunrise just doesn't go along well with me not being a morning person. I wish I was!

Day 2: A before loss self-portrait

I was 23 weeks and 6 days pregnant with Avery in this photo. (We found out she was gone 10 days later.) Sometimes I just want to crawl into this photo and be this version of me for just another day.

Day 3: An after loss self-portrait

This is me in July of 2010, four months after losing Avery. Don't be too fooled by my smile. I was still a mess. But by this time, I'd finally come to the point where I wanted to heal and wanted to try being better for her. I wanted to live gracefully through it for her. I still do.

Poppop

It's been two months since I last blogged. I was doing so well with sharing and being up to date on our happenings, big and small. But sometimes life really does just 'get in the way.'

On the 6th, it will be one month since my grandpa passed away. His health had been going downhill for years, but this all happened so quickly. I don't think you can ever be prepared to lose someone, no matter how natural or surprising their death is.

Poppop, as some of us grandkids call him, was a generous and successful man. He worked his entire life for his wife and eight children (my dad being the only boy). He was a talented musician, served in the army, fought in the Korean war, was a motorcycle cop in Manhattan, and later built a multimillion dollar pest control company with his son, my dad. Poppop always worked hard and was always so giving. He never needed the recognition either. He just did it whatever he could to help and bless people.

It's difficult adjusting to life without him here. I've had him my entire life. It's the strangest thing to go visit my grandma and he's not there, the evidence of him slowly fading. I miss him a lot. I think about him a lot. And I dread Thanksgiving and Christmas without him. Our family is so changed. I know he's no longer in pain and we will see him again one day, but our days here without him are still going to be tough for a long while.

 

 

But I am so grateful that Jude was able to meet my grandpa. It saddens me that he won't remember him, but I have some beautiful photos of them together. Poppop loved Jude so much. I could just see it in his face when he would hold him that there was something special between them. It always touched my heart and I'll always carry those memories with me. I'll make sure Jude knows how loved he was.

I love you, Poppop. Give Avery a kiss for me. <3