Category: Baby number 2


For those of you who do not know, August 19th is the “Day of Hope”started by Carly at Names in the Sand (http://august19thdayofhope.blogspot.com/). It is a day where babyloss mammas and daddys can give and donate memory boxes and significan items to a hopsital in memory of their child that died. This year is the first year that I am particiapting.

I am aiming for 5 boxes in total. Two are for babies who are stillborn, and 3 are for parents who experience early pregnancy loss. In each box will be two blankets, a face washer, a candle holder and candle, a photo frame with one of the Day of Hope images in it, a journal and information on where to recieve help in coping with the loss.

Each box will be donated with a message; “In loving memory of”. Each box will be donated in memory of my babies, as well as close friend’s babies.

The idea is that parents will not go home empty handed, and that pregnancy and infant loss will not be taboo any longer.

I thank you Carly, and the team at Project Heal for giving me the inspiration to participate in memory.

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Not too many people in my “real” life know that I have had two miscarriages. Not many people know how devestating I found each of them. Not many people know just how deeply my longing to becomg a mother really is.

Because not many people know, all of Lily’s and Speck’s momentos- the majority of them- live in boxes ( beautiful ones, but still boxes) at the top of my wardrobe. It saddens me that their belongings do not have a space in my home, because I share it with 3 other people, two of which have no idea of this side of me.

I do, despite all of the above, have items in my living area- for them. Ones that are discreet in meaning, so that I do not have to explain them. I have two framed, stunning images from Carly Marie ( projectheal.blogspot.com) on my wall. One is of a butterfly under a mutli-coloured sunset, the other of two hearts under the same sunset.

I also have a framed photo on my bookshelf of a heart in the sand from Carly’s site. This has two candles next to it. Most days, I have these candles burning to remind me of the lives I carried within me.

I have candles lit most days, as a reminder. No one questions this, no one thinks anything of it.

In our bedroom, I have an “inspiration board”- a canvas wrapped with string with items on it that remind me of Lily. Next to that, I have her bear, and next to that I have a scented pink candle that is lit most nights.

Most days, I wear a discreet piece of jewellery- the one that I recieved on Lily’s birthday this year. This reminds me of them every day, and brings me peace when I wear it.

Even though my children do not have a specific place in my home, I have discreet, beautiful reminders of them. These reminders ease the pain, and are beautiful reminders of their brief lives.

K, I hope some of this helps. It is ok to have your children’s memorial displayed in your home- keeping it discreet makes it all the more sweeter xxx

They say that with time, it gets easier. It does. I can wholeheartedly back that statement. But today. Today, it is no easier. In fact, some parts of today have been harder. Today, I should have been celebrating my 2nd baby’s first birthday. He’d be one today. I cannot believe it, let alone entertain the thought.

It was not a good day for me at all. By about 1pm, I was in tears, crying in front of a colleague, while students were coming in and out of the classroom. It was a massive bubble of things that lead to me beginning to cry. The bubble burst. It was a combination of exhaustion, stress, hormones, self doubt and sheer grief. I was just thankful I didn’t lose it in front of the class I was teaching.

They say that time is a healer. Today, it didn’t make me miss Little Speck any less. It made me miss him more. It made me miss Lily. I hope that wherever they are, they’re together, and she’s made his birthday special. Because I can’t.

I didn’t do anything to mark his special day. Nothing. I did not light a candle, I did not watch the sunset. I am,however, spending the last moments of my day (night really) “with” him, using this time to let him overwhelm me. To make up for the fact I practically didn’t have a spare moment to devote to him today.

The thought of me with a one year old child is something that is so incredibly scary, and for now, a fading dream.

It dosen’t mean I love him any less.

I miss you so much, my little man. I wish every day that you could have stayed.

Happy Birthday sweetie.

About life after loss, and how being given the opportunity to be around and nurture Other People’s Babies (OPB’s- or kids) has been the thing that has “most” helped me heal- that and the volunteer work I do in the BabyLost community.

While I was having a think about what I could post about, this feeling of overwheling sadness came over me. This has been happening for a few days.

It is Little Speck’s first birthday next week. On June 15th ( give or take a number of days) he would have been a happy, healthy little one year old. I still wonder about that little baby, taken away far too soon. I wonder who he would have taken after? Would he have my artisic streak? His father’s laid-back nature? My family’s sporting passion?

This wonderment, and the fear that goes along with life post-miscarriage, it is a hard place. It scares me to no end that I “could” have had a 4 -year- old- child, and an almost one-year-old.  But in amongs the fear is pride. I am so proud of my babes, even though they did not stay for long.

Fear, wonderment, pride, loss. I guess it reflects every day life really.

Some days, this is exactly how I feel- like I am adapting to suit my environment.

It’s funny how I can change so much to suit what is happening.

I can heatedly debate teaching with the best of them- what management style is good, why public is better than private, how your final exams are not the be all and end all.

I can talk cars, V8’s, engines, models, colours when I am with my partner’s friends.

I can be the listening friend when it comes to nasty divorces and court proceedings.

I can “like” talk “like” a “like” teenager, where needed to the kids in my classes.

I can talk customer service with the best of them, I know rights, and where to get help involved for disgruntled customers.

I can talk house designs, suburbs, prices, loans, interest rates.

I can even talk kids. I can have an entirely one sided conversation about breastfeeding, I know cures for morning sickness, I know what markers the doctors are looking for at a 19-20 week anatomy scan, I can discuss the pros and cons of disciplining small children, I know what allergies to ask after when I am babysitting or cooking for kids.

I can gossip with the best of them, I can talk crap, I can ramble, I can laugh, cry, I can talk.

I just don’t understand why I cannot talk about the world I know best aloud.

The world of loss and grief.

I cannot change my skin enough to be able to speak of this aound, to just anyone…

Its a weird feeling.

So here it is again. Christmas.

A dity word in anyone’s book who works in retail. Today really was “Black Friday”, as Christmas eve fell on a Friday here in Australia.

Because of Black Friday, we were all prepared for the day to be chaotic as soon as those doors opened at 8am, on the dot. We needed as many (humanly) hours before the store opened to get everything presented and looking nice. So I started work at 5am.

I had forgotten there WAS a 5am…

I was driving to work this morning, just as the sun was rising on this Christmas eve. The sky was pained blue, tinges with green, and yellow, where the sun was coming up over the hills. It was a beautiful sight to see, the beginning of one of the most magical days of the year.

I burst into tears as I watched that sunrise, as I was driving.

I cried because I thought to myself ” It’s another Christmas without my children”. It’s another year where I do not buy gifts for my children, I do not excite them with stories of reindeer and Santa, I do not take them for drives to see the elaborate displays of Christmas lights, they do not sit on Santa’s lap, wishing for the world for Christmas. It would have been Little Speck’s first Christmas this year. I am not sad about this, I just feel as though I am missing out.

I cried because they should be here to see something so beautiful as the sun rising on Christmas eve.

I cried because once again, it is another something that is a reminder of what I don’t have.

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BUT…

This isn’t a blog post about what I don’t have. It’s about what I DO have.

What I DO have this Christmas, is a lovely collection of Christmas cards from other parents from around the world, who have sent me their words of kindness, just to let me know- “you arent’ alone”. It is nice to think that because of my children, I am helping to bring a small amount of peace to many famlilies.

I DO have a loving family to spend the day with, to drink with, to shower with love and to shapre a Christmas meal with.

I DO have a great crew at work who made my day by giving gifts at 5am today. What a great way to start work!

I DO have a loving, amazing, wonderful fiance’, who I am away from this Christmas. But that’s ok. Our love knows no distance! I am excited to see the gift he got for me. No clue, whatsoever!

And I DO have my children. They are not with me. But they have brought so many amazing, kind, warm people into my life. I love you two so much for this. Lily and Little Speck, I am glad to have you.

A very Merry Christmas to ALL of you, and if you’re in Europe or America- stay warm and enjoy your white Christmas!

If you’re here in Australia- stay cool!

}|{ Peace and love to you and yours }|{

Deepdreamer

Most days, I am ok. Most days, they are barely a thought on my mind. Most days, I can smile.

Most days.

But some days, it just hits me.

Right out of nowhere, it grabs me, and slams me down to the floor, knocking the wind out of me.

These days, I cannot believe that I have seen such loss, that I know such grief and sorrow. That my heart knows only ache when it comes to my dreams of becoming a mother. Some days, it hits me. I am 21, and so far, have been pregnant twice in my life.

I have miscarried. Twice.

I am a mother to two angel babies.

Am I still a mother?

My biggest fear in the entire world, is to not be able to bring life into it. I truly believe that my purpose on this earth was to have children, to raise them, to comfort them, to teach them to be good people, so that they can make a difference to this world.

 And so far, up until now, this dream has been nothing but shattered. Time and time again.

I am petrified of another pregnancy, but even more petrified of another miscarriage. I don’t even believe that I could cope with another one.

I think what makes it sneak up on me is the fact that I did not really have to opportunity to have cloure. I miscarried my baby. There was nothing else to see or do after the fact. I was expected to move on. Pretend it didn’t happen. The lack of closure can be hard some days.

Some days I just simply cannot comprehend that IT HAPPENED TO ME!

It happened to me…

I am a statistic, I am a mother. I am…on a journey. I feel that it will not end until I hold a baby, my baby, safe in my arms.

A year ago today…

I began to slowly tell people of my second pregnancy. Just a few close angel mummy friends. I had known for a few days, and I was waiting until I saw my partner in person before I told him of the news.

I was just beginning to struggle with morning sickness, exhaustion and again, the fear.

How was I going to tell him our world was about to change?

Again, for the second time in my life, nature stepped in and took care of the anxiety for me.

At about 2pm the next day, I began to spot. As the afternoon progressed, it changed from light to dark red and heavy. Accompanied, again, by cramps, and again, that sickening feeling you get when you know it’s all over.

I didn’t cry. I calmly called my doctor, the same doctor who only days before had confirmed a heartbeat. He got me to go into the surgery, where it was confrmed that there was no heartbeat, no sac, no baby.

I drove myself to the doctor’s surgery while miscarrying my baby. I still, to this day, cannot believe I did that. The drive back was awful, the pain intensified by the fact I knew my baby, my would-be rainbow baby, was gone.

I cannot believe a year has passed, my baby. It seems like yesterday. I sit here, reflecting. I have a candle lit for you, in honor of your last night with me. I only wish I had known it would be the last night I had with you.

I only wish I had known what was to come…

I always wonder. If I had not said those words “I am pregnant” to anyone to begin with, would my baby have stayed?

My butterfly babies, I have been feeling you with me now, more than ever. Your presence, your spirit that is with me, is had made me feel as though you are right here with me,as though you had never left.

I don’t know why you both seem to be with me- a presence so powerful it has left me feeling as though I have had the wind knocked out of me. Is it because it is coming up to a year- on the 13th- since I lost my second baby? Is it because I am helping to organise the most beautiful rememberance ceremony for October 15th? Is it because it’s another day, another friend who has lost another little tiny life?

Is it because you want to remind me that I am still a mother, no matter what?

I can feel you here. Help me through my little loves.

Deepdreamer

It’s been over a month since anyone has heard from me on here.

What have I been up to you ask?

I have been teaching for the last 5 weeks.  It has been a highly stressful time for me.  The school I was placed at was hugely challenging, with not much “teaching”, rather crowd control. There were a handful of good kids, but on the whole, it was pretty bad. Still, the behaviour management skills I have practiced, and gained, are invaluable. So I thank the school for that!

Lily’s angelversary came and went.

I broke on my way to a doctor’s appointment that afternoon.

Driving while hysterically crying is NOT the best idea. I don’t know what triggered the crying, but I was glad it happened. I had a moment where I lost control of myself entirely, and debated about pulling over. It was a fairly busy road, so I gained control pretty quickly. I think I needed it.

 I spent the day at school, and subsequently, I had to keep my emotions in check. Being on my own in the car, crying, was the lowest point. But I got control, and was able to use the afternoon to sit, and to remember. It was a bittersweet day.

It’s also coming up to a year since I lost Little Speck. I can’t believe it’s come around so fast. This time last year, I didn’t even know I was pregnant, and yet- there he was, snug and safe and growing. Such a surprise you were, my baby.

For October 15th- Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day- I am meeting up with some ladies in my town and heading to the beach, to remember and to celebrate these precious lives lost. I am hugely looking forward to it. The day comes 2 days after the angelversary of Little Speck. I look forward to this very much.

It’s also Father’s Day today.

For my beautiful, loving, amazing fiance- Happy Father’s Day my love. Even though you do not know you are a father. I hope,one day- you will be.

Deepdreamer