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Lightning Babies: Before the Rainbows

A rainbow baby is a term used to describe a child born after miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss.

These babies are stunning bits of promise after a storm, a collision of both sun and rain alike. Resounding with hope and promise, they appear after a monsoon of grief. As life breaks forth within, these little ones bring with them shimmering swaths of delight. They live up to their name, these beautiful, rainbow children of ours.

But they weren’t the first ones to light up the sky.

Because if the babies born after loss are rainbows, then the ones we lost must be lightning.

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Day 7: Your Motherhood Story

{October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, share YOUR messy, imperfect, but beautiful motherhood story with the hashtag #thismotherhoodstory.}

Journal Prompt: What does your motherhood story look like? Use the #thismotherhoodstory to share it with us! What do you want others to know about pregnancy loss?

I am the mother of six, much-loved babies but you can only see one.

This is a part of my motherhood story.

It’s not always pretty. It’s full of countless sleepless nights and pillows damp with tears. It’s full of days crouched by a tiny grave, the damp grass sticking to my sneakers and soaking into the hem of my jeans. It’s full of missed anniversaries and hearts that ache with the ebb and flow of babies from my womb. But it’s also full of hope.

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Day 6: Naming Your Baby

{October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, join us with the #thismotherhoodstory as we journal our way through topics surrounding grief and life after loss.}

Saturday, October 14, 2017 – Journal Prompt: 
Did you choose to name your gone-too-soon babies? Why or why not? If you did, what special meaning does their name hold?

“I can’t tell you their gender, but I can tell you that there may be a little something extra down there.” The ultrasound technician had just completed our eighteen week scan with the twins, and while she wasn’t allowed to officially tell us their sex, she was gracious enough to give us a hint.

We had already picked out names, and quickly settled on who was who: Alistair was baby A and Landon was baby B. Just over ten weeks later, I was beyond thankful that we’d chosen to call them by name for a large portion of the second-trimester. In the shock of my heartbreak, I didn’t have to worry about naming my now deceased baby — I already knew exactly who he was.

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Pregnancy Loss & Awareness Month

The leaves are turning red and orange, filling the air with their earthy scent. Pumpkins dot the doorsteps of our neighbourhood and the stores have their Halloween decorations out in full force. The air is thankfully cooler and perfect for colourful scarves and jackets, toques and boots. It’s October: the month of Canadian Thanksgiving, specialized pumpkin drinks from Starbucks, and those way-too-addictive boxes of mini-chocolate snacks.

It’s also the month for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness.

In this next week leading up to October 15th (Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day), I am partnering with fellow loss mama, and author extraordinaire, Stefanie Tong, to help raise awareness and break the silence surrounding this important topic.

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Grieving Mama, You’re Beautiful

The jagged seashells crunch underfoot and the tide laps lazily along the shore. We’re the first ones on the beach this morning and the silence feels comforting. Gulls swoop and screech above as we settle into the cool sand, toes burying deep among the tiny grains. My toddler busies himself with buckets and shovels, creating a world of dusty castles and ravine roads, and I bask in the early morning warmth of the spring sunshine.

For a city girl who loves quiet libraries and comfy couches, it never ceases to amaze me that the place I feel most connected to my grief is here, outdoors.

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Chasing Light: Book Review

One of my very talented blogger friends, Stefanie Tong, has recently published her new book: Chasing Light, a beautiful and raw look at life after pregnancy loss.

Centered around her two miscarriages and her subsequent grief and depression, Stefanie writes about both the challenges and the search for hope and wholeness following the death of a child.

Reading through this book, I was constantly struck by Stefanie’s incredible honesty and willingness to embrace and explore her grief. She is not afraid to be vulnerable and peal back the intricate layers surrounding loss. Touching on her husband’s grief, as well as conversations that they had with their three-year-old daughter, I appreciated this book’s accurate reflection of how grief and loss affects the entire family.

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Dear Grieving Mama, It’s October

Dear Grieving Mama,

It’s October. The trees have begun to shed their colourful leaves and the smell of pumpkin spice lattes float throughout the cool air. For everyone else, this is a month about Halloween costumes, Thanksgiving turkeys, and trips to the pumpkin patch. But for you, this month signifies something a little different.

This is your first October after the loss of your little one.

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Trying Again After Loss

It feels like it’s taken me a long time to get here. To arrive at this in-between place where I’m finally ready to entertain the idea of ‘trying again.’

Another pregnancy. Another baby.

The thought volleys around in my head. Back and forth I debate whether I’m ready to get pregnant again – whether I even want to. Maybe we have already reached our family’s final number; maybe we will find new ways to grow, just the three of us.

But I know in my heart that I’m not satisfied with this ending.

Not that this wouldn’t be enough. Not that I wouldn’t be perfectly happy leaving things the way they are. But there’s more to this story – it’s not finished yet.

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Someone’s Missing

The backseat of my car is strangely quiet – the ride curiously devoid of its usual symphony of animal imitations, tired cries, and gleeful toddler babbling. I turn the radio down to listen for sounds of rhythmic breathing or the gentle pop of a soother falling from my son’s sleepy lips.

It is completely quiet.

It is then, with my car enveloped in relative silence, that the panic decides to strike. The feeling is not unfamiliar; my chest tightens and I am slapped with an inexplicable feeling of alarm.

“Someone is missing.”

The thought springs unbidden to the forefront of my mind, anxiety overruling logic. I have forgotten someone, I have left them behind.

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