A year ago today, I blogged about losing my baby for the
first time. Today is the day yearly when
baby loss mamas and those who love them remember their lost babies and try to
raise awareness about pregnancy and infant loss. I wrote here that I didn’t know there was such as thing as Baby Loss Remembrance Day and I
wished I didn’t have to. A year has past
and so much has changed. I am glad I
know about today and have the opportunity to get loved on and supported by
amazing friends and family. The reason I
know about today is the part I can’t get over.
Since I am somewhat obsessive about dates, it’s been
surprising to me this year that significant dates have not been as traumatic
for me as I’ve read they would be or that they are for many others who’ve been
in my shoes. This could be because I
have such a cute little distraction underfoot at all times and a squirmy baby
girl in my tummy. Whatever it is, I am
grateful that as I feared last year, the 6th and 7th of
every month do not send me to bed to wallow in my grief. So, when I did the ugly cry all the way to
school this morning, it surprised me. My
tears came out of nowhere. I tried to
blame them on lack of sleep (Baby A had me up off and on all night) but that
didn’t make much sense. Finally, I gave
into the knowledge that today is a special day in the lives of parents like
us. I spent the ride to school
remembering my baby boy and wondering what he would’ve been like as a 13 month
old and praying like crazy that his sister arrives safely in a little less than
three weeks.
Part of “celebrating” Baby Loss Remembrance Day is lighting
a candle at 7pm to “light the night” all over the world in memory of all the
babies we’ve lost. My Face.book newsfeed
already had several pictures and references to the day at 7am this morning from
my friends in other parts of the world. A
big part of me did not want to light a candle tonight. A big part of me doesn’t want to be in this
club anymore. I want to be in the “I
lost my baby but I am over it thankyouverymuch and I am having another baby and
this time nothing is going to go wrong” club.
But the closer I get to the induction date and the farther out we get
from losing Levi, mornings like this remind me that this is my club, these are
my people. I can do with it what I wish,
but I cannot change it. I am a baby loss
mom. My baby died. I never got to meet him and I am most certainly
not over it and no amount of adorable kinky headed babies calling me mama or
brand new little girls with their brother’s initials will fill the hole that
losing Levi left in my heart. I like
who I am now even more than I liked who I was before. I am more compassionate. I am more willing to talk to others about
things that are hard. I know who my true
friends are and I try desperately to deserve them. I appreciate my husband more. I am a better mommy to Baby A and more
sympathetic to those who want desperately just to see two pink lines on a
stick.
I randomly came across a quote today that had nothing to do
with baby loss, but reminded me so much of the last year of our lives: “Rejoice
in the struggle, because when we choose to rejoice, the struggle becomes
pretty.” Now there have been many dark
days that have felt anything but pretty, but when I think about the time that’s
past since last September, there’s a whole lot more pretty than anything else.
And speaking of pretty, here are a few photos from precious
friends that lit candles tonight for our boy.
Many others (including a bride/client of Skip’s that I’ve never even
met) sent sweet texts and emails today letting us know that Levi has not been
forgotten.
CJ made this for us. The four sides spell out Levi.
It was perfect for tonight.
