Ember Laura-Ellen Waving

Ember Laura-Ellen Waving
Waving to mommy and daddy at 13 weeks

Sunday, May 6, 2012

International Bereaved Mothers' Day

You don't say "happy bereaved mothers' day!". There's no hallmark card for it. And you'll be able to hear my gasp of shock around the world if anyone of my extended family or "IRL" non-angel moms say anything about it without prompting.

"Today is International Bereaved Mothers Day! This day was created by us in 2010 and it now falls on the first Sunday of every May.
This special day was created to honour and celebrate mothers who carry some if not all of their children in their hearts rather than their arms.  In our modern day society, mothers who are grieving the death of their babies and children are usually forgotten. The traditional Mothers Day has proven to be an emotionally difficult day for so many mothers around the world.
On this day each year we come together to celebrate our connection, our babies and children and our hope for the future. We look at their ultrasound photos, polish their urns, lay flowers at their graves, visit special places and light candles in their memory." 
-directly from the CarlyMarie ProjectHeal 

Many grieving mothers don't even know this day exists. Not to mention most NON-angel mothers. It's a day for us because of how hard the "normal" Mothers' Day is for us. But what good does it do for the hurting mamas who don't know about it? None. For it to be a comfort, it needs to be known. It's just another way we need to break the idea that stillbirth and infant loss are taboo. Miscarriage is being talked about more but stillbirth and infant loss are still lagging behind in the awareness-arena. Why is that? Whatever the reason, we need to be talking about miscarriage, stillbirth and infant loss more. Despite blogging about Ember and life after her death, some of my friends still didn't realize they could ask about her. Just recently a local friend told me she'd wanted to ask about my Em before but thought that mamas wouldn't want to speak of stillbirth. That's not her fault she didn't know that talking about Ember is like spring water in the desert- precious and rare.

Today for me is also personally hard. Today it's been 22months since Ember died. 22months later and you know what? The pain is still scalding sometimes. It's not as frequent that it feels like I can't breath from missing her but when it hits, it's just as powerful.

What will you do today? If you are a grieving mama, will you light candles? Bring flowers to a grave? How about talk about your lost love and help break the taboo? Feel free to just share this post with friends&relatives if you can't find the words yourself.

If you know a grieving mama, whether her loss was yesterday or two decades ago, whether her baby was 12weeks along or 22 years old, tell her you're thinking of her and her lost child. A hug, flowers or just a simple message saying you remember and care- those are all ways to offer comfort.

Myself, I wish I was doing a balloon release or had flowers to put by Ember's ashes in her urn. But today kind of snuck up on me and I just don't know how to do anything I wish I could w/o the support of those around me.

                      The first time I've shared my Ember's face publicly. I hope you can understand how huge this is for me and be respectfully and kind.



Wednesday, February 15, 2012

3rd Valentine's Day

   Sweet Little Valentine,

  Today was your third Valentine's Day, and the second since you died. Two years ago today your daddy and I  got married in the botanical gardens. You where there with us already, we didn't yet know you where Ember but you where there. I called you our sweet little Valentine. I dreamed of the next year, when I could dress you up and give you cuddles and just couldn't wait. Instead, what was supposed to be your first Valentine's Day earthside, we where just missing you.

And that's where we still are- just missing you. Every. breathe. I. take, I am missing you. Every step I take, I am missing you. You baby girl are never apart from me.

Today I held a newborn girl. The first newborn I've held besides your baby brother since you. The first female baby I've held since you. I swore I never would again, but she was crying and everyone's hands where full..... she had dark-hair and nuzzled in when I picked her up. Your brother was less than thrilled. It was one of the most bittersweet physical moments in a long time. The sweetness of that beautiful baby girl who needed comfort while her mom couldn't hold her. The bitterness of having never seen your blue eyes, felt you cuddle back when I held you, never hearing your kitten-ish new baby cry....

I was lucky that just before this I had a chance to connect with an angel/rainbow mommy friend just before this. I'm venturing out into the IRL mommy circles more. And with mommies comes babies, toddlers, big kids.... and around half are girls. Newborn girls like you, toddler girls as you should be, big girls like you'll never be. I do my best to not compare your brother to other children, to let him be his own self only. But you, I compare you to every female child I see. Would you have looked like that? Would you done that by that age? Would you like wearing that? Would you talk like that? Constantly, questions like this hum under the surface..... It's so ingrained in me now that I don't realize I'm doing it or pay much attention to it. I'll never have the answers and I know that. Your story ended but ours keeps on going. You'll always be part of us though.

Happy Valentine's Day Ember, oh how I wish I could see your face today and every day.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

It's Been So Long

Hey Sweet Baby Girl,

It's been so long since I've written to you. I'm so sorry for that. It's not that you aren't in my thoughts. Never has a day passed without me thinking of you, never will one. I tell your baby brother about you often. He likes to look at your pictures and cuddle your MollyBear. Your second Christmas seemed even harder than the first. You got two pink cloth flowers from your daddy and me. Nana got you an angel bear. You got ornaments for us, Nana and friends too. I wish you'd gotten lots of toys and new clothes and lots of big wrapped presents to tear open. We bought most of your brother's presents online to avoid bringing him out.... and I had to look for presents we could have given to you. You'd be almost nineteen months old. Wow. We took your Molly Bear with us to see Santa. We told Santa about you and he held your bear with your brother. He plays with your toys, snuggles in your blankets. I hope you don't mind sharing. If you where here, he'd get your hand-me-downs. These are the only things ya'll can share. He wears some of your clothes too... but he's a big boy now and he's quickly out-growing most of what we bought for you. Most of your clothes where 9months or smaller... We thought we'd buy more as you grew.... We made butterfly ornaments for you, and your daddy made you an ornament himself too.

Some people worry that he's having to grow up in your shadow. Nothing could be less true. Losing you and missing you just make him shine even more. I know exactly how precious he is.... because I know how precious you where and how that wasn't enough to save you. Watching him grow is making me imagine your babyhood again. Once again, though you'd be fourteen months older than him, I'm imaging what you would have been like as a newborn, as a four month old, as a five month old... Wondering when you would have rolled over, when you're first tooth would have came. When you would have sat up, if you would have liked the swing. Which toy would have been your favorite, would you have had colic? An ear infection? Would be so chubby like he is? Would your eyes have stayed blue too? Would you have been a mama's girl? Would you have started chattering so early? What would you have thought of baths? Where would you have wanted to sleep? Would you like car rides?

Oh baby girl, everything he does gives me more unanswerable questions about you. I hug him tighter for it. He's not just my rainbow- he's your rainbow too. One child can't fill your arms when there's supposed to be two.