Friday, July 16, 2010

Love, support, kindness

Let me start with a request: Please go give Jennifer some love. Her sweet Kai was born still on June 16th.

And sorry for two posts in one day.

My visit with Dr. B, the naturopath, went really well. I am going off the thyroid medication! It is going to take time, it means pushing our trying to conceive plan back a month or two, but for the first time in five years I am going to be medication free. I am switching from medication to natural supplements and that makes me feel much better about a second pregnancy (fingers crossed, toes too).

I love Dr. B. A lot. My appointment was a full hour, I talked about many things, and I didn't cry even though it was strangely akin to therapy. My favorite moment was when she looked at me and said, "I want to rescue you and put you back together." Oh, well, please do. I would appreciate that ever so much.

One simple sentence and yet with those words I shed a great deal of anxiety. I offloaded a bit of this journey into her capable hands and I realized that this is what we do with our grief. We parcel it out, bit by bit, until we have a small enough amount we can carry it around without buckling under the weight.

Many friends and family members have a piece of my grief. The wonderful BLM I have "met" have a piece, but they have theirs to carry too, so it is more of a juggling act. Every time I read about a new mama who has joined this sad group (we really are trying to figure out how to close down membership) I take their little one's name and place it ever so gently in the corner of my heart reserved for those special souls. How many names can one little heart corner hold? More than I thought possible. Way too many.

(Insert random wandering thought: Whenever I think of you baby loss mamas this quote from one of Anne Lamott's essays comes to mind: " ... This is life's nature: that lives and hearts get broken - those of people we love, those of people we'll never meet. ... the world sometimes feels like the waiting room of the emergency ward and we who are more or less OK for now need to take the tenderest possible care of the more wounded people in the waiting room ..."

I would love to meet all of you. Some rich billionaire needs to work on making a baby free zone for us. An island somewhere warm would be nice. Then said billionaire needs to fly us BLM there. We can rest on the beach, drink cocktails, talk about our babies, cry, laugh, be bitter, just be).

Grief will give you whiplash. From knocked down sobbing wreck to one more corner of the ripped to shreds soul mended in less than twenty-four hours. This is exhausting. But I have a plan now. I have a piece of paper that tells me what to do. I have something to focus on. I feel a little less lost.

Dr. B said we can grow a healthy baby and I believe her. It's going to take time, I need to be patient, but I know we are working towards a future. I know I am going to be terrified throughout the next go round. I lost my baby at the full term mark, at the end of a normal labor, and there was never any indication that anything was wrong. I am going to need a lot of help to make it through my next pregnancy. My midwives and Dr. B are holding one leg, my fellow baby loss mamas have the other, my friends and family have my torso, and my dear husband is cradling my head. In this manner, carried aloft, supported through it all, I will get pregnant again and I will hope for the best while acknowledging that the worst may happen.

Yesterday I wanted to crawl into a cave and never come out. Today I feel a little stronger and I can look at the future and see glimmers of possibility instead of pure blackness. I can do this, I can. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time.

Love to all who take the time to read these words.


  1. I am glad you had a good appointment, and hooray for no more meds!!

    I have faith that we will have our beautiful take-home babies. I have to believe that we will.

    I understand what you mean about tucking the names of the babies lost into that special place.

    And if you ever find that billionaire who has that island just for sure to let me know! :)

  2. So glad that your appointment went well & you are feeling hopeful. I would also LOVE for that billionaire to do that for is a much needed place for us BLM's! And know that of course you can count on us to hold you up & support you during your pregnancy, after all we're all going to need that same support when our turn comes.

  3. I do like the sound of your Dr. B. I almost sighed my own little sigh of relief at her words, even though they were (obviously!) not addressed to me.

    I know that I always feel better when I have concocted a PLAN. I hope you do too. It sounds like a good one to me.

    Thank you for your kind words over at my place. x

  4. angela, thank you for the special mention. i really appreciate the love and support. god knows, we, in this community, need a lot of them to get us through trying times of grief. our arms may be empty without our babies but they are big enough to 'virtually' reach out and hug other baby lost mothers out there. our hearts may be broken into million pieces, but there is one shard that can hold the names of the lost babies of every mother we connect with in this journey. in this way, we can hold each other up, remind us we're not alone and give us hope. and i believe in it completely.

    i like that idea of handing pieces of grief to family, friends and fellow BLMs. as i see it, you're not really giving them grief, you're just letting them hold it for you during times when it's too heavy to bear. so you can straighten your back, stretch your limbs a little and get some rest. like love and support, respite from grief even for a few moments is priceless. of course, an all-expenses paid, baby-free zone island getaway with other BLMs is not so bad either.

    when you mentioned Anne Lamott in this post, i remembered this: "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird," and thought of you. i suppose it can also work for grief. have a good weekend.

  5. so beautiful - when i hear you put it that way - parceling out our grief for others to carry - i am all the more grateful for my friends, family, co-workers, and babylost sisters. so glad that you are feeling optimistic for your rainbow.

  6. I have faith you will have your rainbow. : ) <3 I do.

    By the way, seeeeeriously, let's write Oprah and ask her to do a Babyloss Mamas Getaway- she can rent out an island for us, bring people to give us massages and mani/pedis and make us all the margaritas we can drink. :D

  7. Oprah! What a brilliant suggestion Annette. I don't really like Oprah, but that woman has more than enough money to rent us BLM an island. Heck, she probably has one we can borrow.

    Anyone know Oprah?

  8. i'm glad you have people to take care of you.

    i'm glad you can keep putting one foot in front of the other.

    hugs x

  9. Angela, just came across your blog via Jeanette's. So sad that you lost your beautiful Charlotte. We're here in the waiting room too, and offering all our love & support. For the days in the cave, and for all the steps beyond it. xxxh

  10. Angela,
    Just read your story of your sweet Charlotte @ Kristin's site. Thanks for sharing such a hard story. God bless.

  11. So glad that your appointment went well & you are feeling hopeful. I would also LOVE for that billionaire to do that for is a much needed place for us BLM's! And know that of course you can count on us to hold you up & support you during your pregnancy, after all we're all going to need that same support when our turn comes.


thank you!


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