Over the last year and a half since Orion died, I've heard some brutal things. People said them trying to offer comfort, though it certainly did not comfort. Two people told me they were "relieved" that he died. Relieved. That my son died. I had to try to tactfully understand where they were coming from, find the seed of what I hoped they were trying to say, give them the benefit of the doubt...when I was the one who had just gone through childbirth and the death of my child. Those words were in fact very cruel and created deep scars. I've also heard that I shouldn't have a memorial service because its not like anyone got to know him. Again, gashing wounds were left in my most vulnerable places. I knew him, intimately. He was unique from my other children. Scarlet danced to the sound of his heartbeat. I felt him kick every day. I felt him die. I held him in my hands. He was very real. And anyone who loves me should be able to see that they would attend a memorial out of love for ME, out of support for my family, as a witness to my grief and his brief life. And, perhaps most painful of all, my husband left while I was in labor. I feel like I'm confessing to sins, but I'm not the one who did these things!
And I haven't shared these things openly because I don't want to hurt anyone...and the people who did these things are those closest to me. I know they didn't mean harm. But harm has been done. I was wronged, deeply, and no apologies will ever arise because the people think they were doing the right thing. (Except my husband: for the sake of our marriage we've had to tear that moment apart with tears and screaming and distance and more tears.)
But the truth is, I've largely been left holding my grief alone. In silence. Or through typed words that people read thousands of miles away. My community has not created a space to witness the grief of his death. They are not standing with me as I shake with tears. They are not singing hymns while I weep. They are not offering practical help or spiritual help.
The cost of this is a deep anger that is changing who I am. And I don't like it and I will not sit here and let it happen. So I am giving voice to my deepest wounds: it was not a relief my child died. It was a tragedy. He does deserve a memorial service and so do I. My husband should have never left that hospital for any reason. He did exist and he does matter.
So I'm letting you all know that there will be a memorial service. It was supposed to be in June, then July, and then August, and then September, and then we were going to get a small gravestone in October...and none of those things have happened. It makes me feel small and unimportant that none of those things have happened, that my grief and my son don't matter enough for even a memorial service. There have been moments I've been able to share stories and cry with someone. There was a beautiful Mother Blessing during my pregnancy with Iris. But for the most part it has been quickly mentioned in passing and ignored.
But there will be a memorial service and I don't care that "too much time has passed" because it hasn't. And anyone who wants to truly be there for us, bear witness to this grief, celebrate a tiny and short life, is invited. Anyone who understands that my child died, and nothing less than that happened, is invited. Anyone who would want me there with them if their child died is invited.
A time and date will follow, but if you would like an invitation please let me know.
Friday, October 30, 2015
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
In Honour #captureyourgrief
Another Facebook post worth sharing: from the Carly Marie Photo Challenge
Day 3: In Honour #captureyourgrief Orion's life changed mine forever. It stripped me bare. I have spent the last year and a half struggling to make sense of my identity because so much has changed. But I don't think Orion's life took anything away from mine: I think it REVEALED me, and that is incredibly uncomfortable, to be honest. I think its made me a much better mother, to all 3 of my children, but its made it difficult to be married to me. Or to be me. The only way I can describe it is like a butterfly: they are going along as a happy caterpillar and one day something changes and they find themselves in a cocoon of their own making. They liquefy and all their parts rearrange on a cellular level to create a magnificent butterfly. That's what happened when I found out Orion was going to die, I went into a cocoon. The night he died he had massive painful seizures and I couldn't help him except to rub my belly and tell him how much I loved him and that it was okay to move on if he was ready. It was the hardest thing of my life. It was the toughest thing I will ever be called upon to do as a mother: to tell my child that its okay to die. I liquefied. And my heart and soul went into chaos for a time. With Iris's birth I think I was reborn too...but it was shocking, terrifying, new. It did not go well for either one of us and there were all kinds of new things to grieve. I had no idea how to move around with wings. I knew they were there, I could feel the weight of them, but I was still trying to crawl from place to place. It didn't work. Everything fell apart. I went to my mom's for a month. I shared Orion with her openly, flooded her home with my tears, let myself die so I could embrace life again. And I have. It sucks not knowing how to fly...not knowing how to be a good mother to Scarlet and Iris and Orion...not knowing how to react when well-meaning people try to understand who he is and how he fits in our family and hurting me in the process. Learning that every moment of searing pain was just cutting away the tether that secured me to the ground. Panicking when I realized it was truly gone and I was truly free. And then great rejoycing. Re-joy-cing. Re-Joy-Sing. Yes. Freedom and love and flying and life like I have never known it before. Sometimes its hard to relate to others as I try out these new wings. But surrender and grace have been my mantras, and I hope I can honor ALL of my children! Scarlet: with miracles. Orion: with the sacred. And Iris: with surrender. What a beautiful, amazing life they have given me! Give the choice, I would choose to be Orion's mom over and over and over again. He is such a blessing and I hope to honor him by sharing him with all of you. (The photo is of a doll, not Orion.)
Day 3: In Honour #captureyourgrief Orion's life changed mine forever. It stripped me bare. I have spent the last year and a half struggling to make sense of my identity because so much has changed. But I don't think Orion's life took anything away from mine: I think it REVEALED me, and that is incredibly uncomfortable, to be honest. I think its made me a much better mother, to all 3 of my children, but its made it difficult to be married to me. Or to be me. The only way I can describe it is like a butterfly: they are going along as a happy caterpillar and one day something changes and they find themselves in a cocoon of their own making. They liquefy and all their parts rearrange on a cellular level to create a magnificent butterfly. That's what happened when I found out Orion was going to die, I went into a cocoon. The night he died he had massive painful seizures and I couldn't help him except to rub my belly and tell him how much I loved him and that it was okay to move on if he was ready. It was the hardest thing of my life. It was the toughest thing I will ever be called upon to do as a mother: to tell my child that its okay to die. I liquefied. And my heart and soul went into chaos for a time. With Iris's birth I think I was reborn too...but it was shocking, terrifying, new. It did not go well for either one of us and there were all kinds of new things to grieve. I had no idea how to move around with wings. I knew they were there, I could feel the weight of them, but I was still trying to crawl from place to place. It didn't work. Everything fell apart. I went to my mom's for a month. I shared Orion with her openly, flooded her home with my tears, let myself die so I could embrace life again. And I have. It sucks not knowing how to fly...not knowing how to be a good mother to Scarlet and Iris and Orion...not knowing how to react when well-meaning people try to understand who he is and how he fits in our family and hurting me in the process. Learning that every moment of searing pain was just cutting away the tether that secured me to the ground. Panicking when I realized it was truly gone and I was truly free. And then great rejoycing. Re-joy-cing. Re-Joy-Sing. Yes. Freedom and love and flying and life like I have never known it before. Sometimes its hard to relate to others as I try out these new wings. But surrender and grace have been my mantras, and I hope I can honor ALL of my children! Scarlet: with miracles. Orion: with the sacred. And Iris: with surrender. What a beautiful, amazing life they have given me! Give the choice, I would choose to be Orion's mom over and over and over again. He is such a blessing and I hope to honor him by sharing him with all of you. (The photo is of a doll, not Orion.)
I support women
From my Facebook Post on Sept 24th, 2015
I support women. All women. And I've been very disheartened by what I've been reading in my newsfeed this week. More than disheartened: upset and sometimes very angry. Because what it boils down to is that I support women. I support women who are infertile, child-free by choice, enjoying a motherhood of bliss, longing for their babies in heaven, or trying to balance mothering children on earth with mothering children gone too soon, and all the women who don't fit into categories. I support the 15 year old who had an abortion, the married woman who has miscarried, the unwed mother, the adoptive mother, the mother who has faced an impossible choice: birth your baby now and they die through "termination", birth them later and they die "naturally" but suffer, and even the mother addicted to drugs. Yes, even SHE deserves my compassion as a human being because I have not lived her life. I AM NOT FIT TO JUDGE. I may wish for many women to get the help they deserve, my heart may ache for children to get the help they deserve, but I'm not going to withhold love and compassion. I believe it is fine to say, "I was pregnant and I ended the pregnancy." It is fine to say, "I was pregnant and I continued the pregnancy." It is fine to say, "I have never been pregnant." It is fine to say, "I was pregnant but didn't raise the baby" (adoption, or any other reason). However, as soon as we start using phrases like "I am pro-choice BUT..." OR "I am pro-life except when..." we are being hypocrites and saying some women matter and some don't. They ALL matter. And before someone starts in on "doesn't the baby matter?" just stop yourself. I am Orion's mother and frankly, all we have done as a nation is discuss the rights of the unborn. They often, in more states than you would believe, have MORE rights than the woman gestating them and creating them out of their own flesh and bone and blood. I've heard enough about it. What I do not hear are discussions about women. I don't hear, from either side, enough about how THEY matter. Not just their life itself, but their happiness, safety, autonomy, goals and dreams...those ALL matter. And when we discuss legal abortions that needs to be a part of the discussion, because that is at the heart of it. And we have ignored it. We pretend that no woman is in danger by being pregnant, ignore that domestic violence increases with pregnancy, that women lose their jobs, and that women lose their LIVES due to pregnancy. Women deserve for us to acknowledge the imperfection of reproduction and that love does not create babies. Women deserve for us to say that they matter too. And they deserve to tell their stories: relief when an unwanted pregnancy ends naturally or through abortion, and grief when a pregnancy ends naturally or through abortion, not just shame and guilt and silence. They deserve to be able to say motherhood sometimes sucks just as much as they are allowed to say how amazing it is. Infertile women deserve to have their pain and struggle validated and grieved out in the open. Child-free women should be able to state their reasons without remorse. Women who had babies die should be able to talk about them as freely as they talk about their living children. Death sucks, and we're terrified of it, but it happens. AND ALL WOMEN, REGARDLESS OF WHAT HAS HAPPENED IN THEIR WOMB, DESERVE SUPPORT, LOVE, AND COMPASSION. PERIOD. You can define what happened however you want, but she ultimately decides how to process that in the context of HER own beliefs, and no matter what...if you withdraw support and compassion you need to consider what is going on in your own heart, not hers.
I support women. All women. And I've been very disheartened by what I've been reading in my newsfeed this week. More than disheartened: upset and sometimes very angry. Because what it boils down to is that I support women. I support women who are infertile, child-free by choice, enjoying a motherhood of bliss, longing for their babies in heaven, or trying to balance mothering children on earth with mothering children gone too soon, and all the women who don't fit into categories. I support the 15 year old who had an abortion, the married woman who has miscarried, the unwed mother, the adoptive mother, the mother who has faced an impossible choice: birth your baby now and they die through "termination", birth them later and they die "naturally" but suffer, and even the mother addicted to drugs. Yes, even SHE deserves my compassion as a human being because I have not lived her life. I AM NOT FIT TO JUDGE. I may wish for many women to get the help they deserve, my heart may ache for children to get the help they deserve, but I'm not going to withhold love and compassion. I believe it is fine to say, "I was pregnant and I ended the pregnancy." It is fine to say, "I was pregnant and I continued the pregnancy." It is fine to say, "I have never been pregnant." It is fine to say, "I was pregnant but didn't raise the baby" (adoption, or any other reason). However, as soon as we start using phrases like "I am pro-choice BUT..." OR "I am pro-life except when..." we are being hypocrites and saying some women matter and some don't. They ALL matter. And before someone starts in on "doesn't the baby matter?" just stop yourself. I am Orion's mother and frankly, all we have done as a nation is discuss the rights of the unborn. They often, in more states than you would believe, have MORE rights than the woman gestating them and creating them out of their own flesh and bone and blood. I've heard enough about it. What I do not hear are discussions about women. I don't hear, from either side, enough about how THEY matter. Not just their life itself, but their happiness, safety, autonomy, goals and dreams...those ALL matter. And when we discuss legal abortions that needs to be a part of the discussion, because that is at the heart of it. And we have ignored it. We pretend that no woman is in danger by being pregnant, ignore that domestic violence increases with pregnancy, that women lose their jobs, and that women lose their LIVES due to pregnancy. Women deserve for us to acknowledge the imperfection of reproduction and that love does not create babies. Women deserve for us to say that they matter too. And they deserve to tell their stories: relief when an unwanted pregnancy ends naturally or through abortion, and grief when a pregnancy ends naturally or through abortion, not just shame and guilt and silence. They deserve to be able to say motherhood sometimes sucks just as much as they are allowed to say how amazing it is. Infertile women deserve to have their pain and struggle validated and grieved out in the open. Child-free women should be able to state their reasons without remorse. Women who had babies die should be able to talk about them as freely as they talk about their living children. Death sucks, and we're terrified of it, but it happens. AND ALL WOMEN, REGARDLESS OF WHAT HAS HAPPENED IN THEIR WOMB, DESERVE SUPPORT, LOVE, AND COMPASSION. PERIOD. You can define what happened however you want, but she ultimately decides how to process that in the context of HER own beliefs, and no matter what...if you withdraw support and compassion you need to consider what is going on in your own heart, not hers.
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