Elvis & sinking deep

So it's been forever.  Hello life! 

(Before we even begin- this post was written in October of 2015...)
Truth is my absence hasn't been completely due to things being busy... I've thought about blogging... written a few posts... and then after taking my normal "write a post, sleep on it, publish it later" process I realize it's just not how I want it to be- I couldn't find the right words.
And then I listened to Elvis Duran on the way to school the other morning. Normally his topics during my commute make me giggle, but on this day I wanted to throw my shoe at him!  The topic was about needing to push "negative" people out of your life.  At first I totally agreed- let the people go who make no attempt to be in your life.  (You know, the friend who found a new friend and now has no time for you unless they need you to do something that benefits only them...) They started taking calls and I don't remember what triggered it- but I realized how VERY WRONG pushing all negative people out of your life is.
Begin self reflection... I've been that negative person for the larger part of the past two and a half years... it's not on purpose, I'm not happy about it, I want to change that, I try to change it.  I've had moments of brightness... I've been through more in 2.5 years than most people could handle in a lifetime.  I'm a stronger person now... but the bubbly Bekah had her bubble burst.
I'm the friend who needs you to call me. Needs you to make the plans.  Needs you to go above and beyond to let me know I'm loved.  I'm also the person who takes everything incredibly personally.  And in my current state- anything that I love that is taken from me is a huge loss.  I'm the needy friend right now.  I'm also the friend who will drop everything when you get heartwrenching news and do whatever I can to help you.
According to Elvis- I should be pushed out of your life so that you are only surrounded by happy, wonderful friends.
I've stopped counting the number of people who have done just that.  I've been greatly hurt by people telling me "You just are too sad" and they've dropped me like a bad habit.  (Let's get something straight right now- losing a baby is THE WORST thing a person can experience. Losing 2 babies means that person needs incredible love and grace- they are fragile, especially in the weeks after the loss)
That loss of friends and family lead to me sinking deep.  I was grieving.  I needed friends, love, grace that in my grief I might not always get it right.
Some days I am flat out negative.  My hope is dwindling.  My innocence is lost. I live with a constant fear that the only children that I will have are the babies I could not keep safe in my womb.  I failed at my first responsibility as a mother.
 I'm a failure.  I may never have a rainbow baby.  I wasn't valued enough to have the truth heard to stay a youth leader to girls I had greatly invested in. (and who brought me great joy.)
Sinking Deep.  Elvis said push me to the side.  I say look at those friendships and really evaluate them.  A friend who is purely using you- sure, time to move on.  A friend who is sinking deep, especially due to loss, extend some love and a lot of grace.  Be the one to ALWAYS makes the call, sends the text, makes the plans.  (A majority of the time I don't know how to do this anymore.)  I gaurentee you the difference you are making in that friend's life is more meaningful than you will ever know.  You won't see it.  You might not even hear it.  But they won't forget it.
You may be the light, love, grace they need to face the next day.  Maybe they politely decline due to a schedule conflict, or only talk for a few minutes... don't give up.  Keep trying.  Be their light.  Cause I promise you- some days the darkness is consuming.   Not every day.  There are bright days.  You can make them brighter.  You can make them more frequent.
Do the opposite of what Elvis suggests... Embrace the ones who are grieving- days, weeks, months, years later... because it never goes away.

On a lighter note...I couldn't find any matching socks this morning... took the dogs out and found 3 of my socks... in Clara's mouth.

The more you know...

Here we sit... again trudging thru the darkness that consumes after the loss of a baby.  Traveling this path once is horrible, twice is nothing shy of pure hell.  With each loss, life changes.  Friends disappear, true colors are shown, and in the end you come out a very different person.  Yet as different as you are- you crave to be the same.  You need to be the same.
I'm guessing that most of you reading this aren't "part of the club" meaning you haven't lost a baby.  Oh how I envy you...
Just as you can't imagine how it is to know loss... I can't imagine how it is to try and walk beside someone who knows loss, and not have a clue.
Let me share what I've learned- both from my experience as an angel mother and as a friend who has walked beside others who have lost.

1) Be there.  It's just that simple.  No need for constant words.  Just be there.  With a tissue, with a hug, with a listening ear, with yourself.  Nothing says more to someone who feels completely alone than to have someone being there.

2) Don't lie.  If an angel mom asks you a point blank question- a lie is ALWAYS the wrong answer.  The truth will be found out and will hurt a million times more.  Lying to us says you don't value us, that we don't matter. This is especially true of "announcements."  The announcement will most likely send us into tears... but lying about it damages the joy we will feel.

3) Be sensitive.  If you are inviting us to a baby/pregnancy event let us know.  Sending a baby shower invite?  A phone call ahead of time will soften the blow at the mailbox. Announcing? As impersonal as it may seem- a perfectly timed text/email helps.  Catch us at home, not alone.  This allows us to shed the tears we so desperately need to, yet respond with the happiness we want to show you.

4) Please don't tell us we are too sad.  We know it.  We hate it.  And we could never wish anyone to have to experience this sadness.  Instead of telling us we are sad- Be There.

5) Follow Through.  I can't tell you the number of people who said "we should get together"  or "lets do dinner sometime."  Yet 4 months later- nothing.  It may not seem like it, but we really like the thought of human interaction.  Is it possible that it's not going to be the most exciting night of your week?  Most definitely.  Are you going to help make angel parents feel loved, valued, and semi-normal.  ABSOLUTELY.  An hour or 2 of "sacrifice" to spend with us can help prevent #4.  Just the same, we notice the people who offer and then never show and that sends a very clear message that we don't matter.

6) Don't take "No" for an answer.  I used this phrase when organizing meals for a friend going through a rough spot.  Never did I expect it to be "used against me"  but it was.  A meal was offered to us, I politely declined (because that's what you try to do) and my friend quoted me word for word.  She showed up with a simple meal... a meal that said, "we love you, we care about you, we are sorry we can't fix this."  It was a dinner (and lunch the next day) that I didn't have to think about or even prepare.  And a portion of the meal was something new for us.  Now every time we have it, I think of this friend and her caring.

7) Give us grace.  We will cry.  We might say something that seems odd or offends you- kindly let us know.  Chances are we didn't mean to.  We live in a different world- a world that society has silenced and we are trying to break the silence in hopes that no one else ever loses a baby.

8) Don't take away things that bring us joy.  The greatest disservice you can do to someone in the darkness of loss is to add more loss. In the darkness of infant loss anything that disappears after that loss is also a loss. And it just sends us farther into the darkness.  Friends fading away= loss.  Replaced on the team= loss.  Asked to take time away from a passion= loss.  As a wise friend once told me, "it's just like shoveling more sh!t onto the pile."

9) Small gifts/tokens and donations.  These are HUGE! There are many amazing organizations out there specifically making mementos for angel parents- sunset pictures, name boards, necklaces, dog tags, charms, statues, bears... the list is rather incredible. All things designed to bring comfort to a grieving parent.  Something that remembers their baby soothes the soul and speaks so loudly.  Visit with something small.  Send a card with a note that you donated to a baby loss charity.  Simple actions that say so much!

10) Speak baby's name.  Nothing makes my heart smile bigger than hearing someone else talk about TJ or our miscarried monkey.  We know it's not comfortable for you, but we love to hear it.  If you can't say it- find a way to allow us to bring it up in conversation.

11) Value our feelings.  If we reach out to you and tell you something we are feeling, acknowledge it. We aren't asking you to agree with it, but we are trusting you to value what we have to say.  I shared my heart the other day, something that was just really hard to hear and I reached out to 2 friends to express the challenge it was. One friend responded with "Hugs" and the other told me, "that's just how life is."  The first response said to me, "I'm here, I care, I don't necessarily understand/agree, but I know you hurt and I love you."  The other said, "Who cares that you hurt, get over it already."  I know that's not how my friend intended for it to be- but that's how my hurting heart took it.

12) Don't assume you know how we feel.  This has been one of the biggest struggles for me.  My experience with baby loss is unlike anyone else's.  I can relate to how most angel parents feel, but I will never know 100%.  This goes hand in hand with #11.  Value our feelings, we value yours!

13) Greet us with: "it's good to see you!" Instead of "how are you?"  The first is warm and safe- it's welcoming.  The later is a loaded question!  Do you really want to know?  Do I really want to share?  I'm trying to make this transition completely... To greet someone I'm happy to see and save that loaded question for when I truly am inquiring.  

14) Look beyond the tears.  Angel parent's emotions betray us... I get tears over everything!  Tears when I'm sad and hurting, tears when I'm healing, tears when my soul is being soothed, and tears with a happy heart.  Follow our lead not our tears.  And when in doubt, give a hug, a tissue, and a kind, loving word.  

Pregnancy and infant loss is an indescribable experience- we are learning just as you are. It's something that will NEVER go away!   Walking with us through our journey is the best thing you can do to ease the pain, lessen the burden, show us you care.  Love us- period!

If you know someone who has had a loss- maybe yesterday, maybe a year ago, 5 years, 10... Maybe it happens tomorrow... Remember these things, apply them and know- you are making a difference that will forever be appreciated!

When Lightning Strikes Twice

I'll never forget the phone call I got from my Aunt several years ago.  The tears in her eyes were audible as she said, "lightning strikes twice" and proceeded to tell me unbelievable news that had happened now a second time in her family.  I remember thinking how crazy it was for it to have happened the first time and then hearing it happened again, to another member of the family- it was unreal, like lightning striking twice.

Lightning isn't supposed to strike twice.  It's supposed to hit once, possible devastate the area of the strike, and never hit there again…

In this house, lightning struck twice.

I had a cute blog post all ready to go to tell you all about how our roller coaster ride was successful and we were excitedly expecting!!! And then- with no warning- I heard the words no mother wants to hear, "I'm sorry, there is no heartbeat."  We joined the 1 in 4 pregnancies that end in loss for the second time. To say I was devastated is an understatement.  There are no words...
Lightning isn't supposed to strike twice- yet it didn't stop…  relationships have ended.  Comments that hurt more than I can ever describe have been "shared" with me.  Opportunities have changed because the loss of a baby is seen as a "problem" with a person.  Not a problem that needs attention to gain support, but a problem that needs to be isolated.

We were 10 weeks... Because of our "roller coaster ride" We knew for almost 7 weeks that our little monkey was growing- our dream if raising a child was going to be fulfilled.  Appointments were scheduled, plans were being made, named picked out... We weren't wasting a minute!  

December 16 changed it all in the blink of an eye.  

I am now mother to 2 angels. Broken, hurting, alone.