My Memory Gap

My Memory Gap

The First 6 Months After Loss

There's a funny thing I've noticed. We are now at just over 1-1/2 years since Charlie died, and our lives go on being lives, even while we miss him. We travel, we work, we keep house, we even moved. But I have noticed something: for me, the time since he died is very much divided into chunks. The first 6 months, when things were very hard; the second set of 6 months, where I was figuring things out; and then the most recent six months, where I am still dealing with things, but some semblance of normalcy has come back. Today I'll focus on the first 6 months, with the accompanying gaps in my memory.

The first 6 months

 In the first six months, it felt like life was a bit of a whirlwind. "Everything" was happening: Charlie died, we planned his funeral, we held his funeral, we wrote thank you cards for the flowers and gifts, we planned his headstone, Hubby started a new job, we moved... It just seemed like a lot changed. But it wasn't just the physical aspects that changed, nor just the tasks that we added to our plate. There were also things taken away, that we had to adjust to, like the roles we had been planning to fill.

Looking back at those six months, there seems to be a fog over the whole thing. I remember certain pieces vividly, but others are a blur. I can't remember most of who came to the funeral (though I am thankful for each and every person who did), and it took me a long time to remember what we did for Christmas: which side of the family we were with, which church we went to, which traditions we did. And for much of the in-between times, I would have to really dig to see if I can remember what was going on.

It's not that I have an amnesia. It's just that my brain and my emotion/heart were dealing with something more important than everyday life. Figuring out grief, where it was inside me, what it meant to me, how I was going to incorporate it into my self: these were much more important issues than making memories of details like what was going on in our day-to-day lives. We thought we were managing well, getting things organized and achieved, but in reality we were going day by day and moment by moment much more than we had the brainpower to realize.

Figuring out who we were, within these new circumstances, also took a lot of mental and emotional energy. Were we parents? The answer was yes, but how were we parents? What was our job, now? One of the things I struggled with was housework - and eventually (after the first 6 months) I realized that part of the reason I had trouble getting it done, was that I'd been picturing having my child in a carrier or eventually helping me out, as I did chores. In fact, I feel more like doing housework when I babysit than when I actually have time to clean.

In those first months, after we had a place for Charlie, and after we'd moved and established things like how we'd visit his grave, and after I'd gotten the house into some form of a livable space, I seem to remember going through a tougher time - like the busyness had worn off as a distraction, and moving and unpacking was no longer a distraction, and then I HAD to deal with our new circumstances, and with missing Charlie, and also missing what he would have been. And Hubby also had some moments when his job had him in contact with newborns, where he also really struggled. We leaned on each other a lot, early on.

For those of you going through something like this right now: In my experience, I found ways to incorporate our loss into living, and while at first the grief was such a heavy burden, in time, I don't know if it got lighter, or I got stronger, or I just found a better way to carry it: but I find the grief doesn't overwhelm me nearly as often or nearly as much. I still love Charlie just as much, and miss him just as much, but I grieve him differently, and have found my own ways to honor and remember him, while finding ways to live and move to new ventures and new identities as well.

Love to all of you reading this. I hope that blessings find you, silver linings catch your eye, and you find things to live for even in the darkness.

💕
Sarah

Doll Hat

Doll Hat

Nothing fancy, just a little something I threw together for my friend-nephew, for his new doll. Acrylic yarn. Should have made the circumference a tad bigger (it's a bit snug) but otherwise, it's just knitting and decreasing.

Plus a pompom.

 

The NILMDTS Walk (Ohio)

 

 The NILMDTS Walk (Ohio)

We are participating in the NILMDTS Remembrance Walk in honor of our son Charlie Peacock Warner. We would love for you to join us - we're team Tiger! If you cannot make it, you can still support us and future loss mamas and papas, and show honor to our baby, by going to this link and making a donation to Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. Thank you for your support!

https://raceroster.com/events/2018/15365/now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleep-2018-remembrance-walk-oh/pledge/team?id=54

Sarah

Why All the Tigers?

National Zoo (Smithsonian) in Washington, D.C.
They may or may not have a gift shop largely dedicated to tigers,
and I may or may not have gone a little "wild"...

Why All the Tigers?

Dear Friends,

You may have noticed that tigers come up in many of my posts. If you click on the menu symbol in the upper left and find the keyword search, you can click on "tiger" and see all the posts I've tagged as tiger-related!

So... why so many? Why is this a theme? It's not even my favorite animal!

Take a guess. It's all about Charlie!

When Charlie was inside me and was still a happy, healthy child, he was very active. He kicked so much that we nicknamed the baby Tigger before we knew if it would be a boy or a girl! When he was born and we had to start planning the funeral, that's what leapt to mind as his "symbol". His headstone has a lovely sketch of a tiger cub on it - we ended up not wanting to do a true Tigger (Milne or Disney), but loved a picture I found online of a cub sleeping. Our little cub is forever sleeping.

      

Many loss parents end up with a symbol that represents their child. It gives them a concrete way to remember them and to see them in their everyday lives. I know several for whom butterflies are important, one for whom angel wings are the symbol (both of which many loss organizations use too), and one for whom sea turtles are particularly special.

In our house, this means that there are many things that are orange, or black, or both, and many things with tigers on them too. Also, we have a growing collection of stuffed animals... Pookie, of course, whom you have met, but also a few other bears (who I will introduce in another post), and many, many tigers!

Below are pictures of each tiger and their name. I hope you enjoy these introductions!

Love,
Sarah

p.s.  This is my 100th post :) Thanks for reading.

 This is Kitten. He is actually about the size of a kitten! No claws or teeth, though. Just lots of cuddles.

Because of his size, he's one of Pookie's tigers.

I found him at Walgreens, didn't get him, really wanted him, went to another Walgreens, I think, and got him... and a matching white one, which I gave to my friend-niece for her 2nd birthday! Must have been around July 2017.

 This tiger doesn't have a name yet! It might be a girl, but I'm not sure. This one is a hair bigger than Kitten, so this is Pookie's other tiger. I got it at the National Zoo in DC in late October 2017. If you have name suggestions, put them in the comments at the bottom of the post! So far all I've come up with is Zoo-ey... which is ridiculous...

This is Lavender. We got him as a Christmas present from one of my sisters (2017). He's filled with flax seed and lavender (we were sleepy when we came up with his name), and he can be heated in the microwave to be a hot pack. Or, he just smells nice when we snuggle :)

This one has no name. He's very sleepy and very tippy. He fits well under Pookie's arm, but if on his own, he just falls on his face, since he's very large-headed.

















This is Euonomos, and he's named that because he looks just a little to the left, and that's a Greek word I found that has something to do with "left" and "good". Any Greek speakers feel free to comment with a better explanation, how to add the diacritics, and any other useful info! I'm thinking Ono, like the speed skater, might be a nice nickname.

We got him Valentines Day in 2017, and he sat with Charlie in the cemetery for a while (in a bag, to protect him from damp). 










This is Blake. Click here to see the poem and poet he's named after! He's big and snuggly, nearly 2 feet tall, I think. We got him sometime in the first half of 2017, I think.

 Unsurprisingly, this is Tigger. He's super special, because he's from my friend-sister, and her children played with him when they were small. He's well loved, and has a rattle :)

She gave him to me at Charlie's funeral, in June 2016. He's our first tiger.

 This is Daniel. Interestingly, I didn't name him, but I'm the one who enjoys Mr. Roger's Neighborhood more... He's not named after the new animated show.

We got him Halloween 2016, in St. Louis. He's a Build-A-Bear, and they are headquartered there. Not all locations have their wild animals, but there's a Build-A-Bear in the St. Louis Zoo (which is a free zoo, by the way, and totally awesome) that has a bunch of the wild animals. There is also a tiger CUB I saw on their website, but I don't have that one yet.


PPS. There may be more tigers coming this summer... Watch for that!

BLAAAAAH

BLAAAAAH

No Motivation, No Get Up and Go

Dear Friends,

One of the stupidest and most frustrating "symptoms" of grief, for me and in my experience, is when I have days where doing anything seems like so much effort that it's not worth it. Not quite to the scale of debilitating depression, because I do get out of bed, and get ready, but then I just mope around the house and don't feel like starting anything.

These days come less and less often. Sometimes they have a reason, like if I was upset the day before, or something is on my mind. But sometimes, if there is a reason, I don't know what it is.

I will usually still get things done, like maybe doing the dishes, or writing something here, or helping a fellow loss-mama on Facebook, but I don't do much throughout the day, and usually nothing that involves physical effort, major mental effort, or any sort of decision-making.

What is frustrating, to me, is that I can see that I'm doing it, that I'm not starting anything, that I'm not getting anything done. It's not a sad day, where I need to take time for myself, either, I just don't even know what I want. And I can't figure out what to do that day, either to fill the time or to get myself out of the mopey mood.

Like I said, as time goes on, these days become fewer, for which I am grateful.

Yours,

Sarah

NILMDTS Remembrance Walk, OH 2018

 

 

Dear Friend,

 

I will be taking part in a walk to remember our baby, as part of the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (NILMDTS) annual walk, which is in June, actually just days after Charlie's birthday.

What this does is support the organization, which provides professional photographers on a pro bono (free) basis to families experiencing a stillbirth or infant loss.

In our case, we got pictures of Charlie, and we will treasure them always. Parents whose children survive get to have lots of photos... this batch is the only one I'll get of him.

One of the things we can do as walkers is to ask for sponsorships, which, like with many other funded walks, are donations to the hosting organization. If you would like to sponsor our team - Team Tiger, you can do so by clicking the link below. If you would like to join us at the walk you can do that too! It's $25 per person and you can register at the same link. Just search for "Tiger" and then click "join team"!

https://raceroster.com/events/2018/15365/now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleep-2018-remembrance-walk-oh/teams

 

Love,

Sarah

Heartbreak In My Stomach

(drawing credit: Sarah Warner, for MWAH2017)

Dear Friends,

There is a feeling I'd like to explain. For me, part of grief - not just sadness, missing Charlie, dashed hopes and dreams - is a truly visceral feeling.

For me, emotion has always been tied to stomach aches. Not the kind you get with the flu, or food poisoning, or anything like that. But a clenching ugh in your middle that says that something isn't right.

There are triggers that bring on grief, for me, and one of the ways I feel the result is an absolute clench of my feelings in my belly. It can be a moment in a movie, a reminder of Charlie in the house or in something I'm reading, or even the grave of someone else's baby.

(Statue in St. Louis Botanical Garden)

My husband and I like to occasionally explore old cemeteries or take walks in them, and when we come across a grave that has one date, or where the dates are in the same year, or worse if the name is also Charlie, it hurts my heart, and I feel it in my stomach, or sometimes in my chest.

(Cemetery outside of St. Louis, where we watched the eclipse. I think it says 7 years 9 months 1 day)

And if I need to cry, I can feel the clichéd "lump in my throat", except it's not the one that I felt when I was little... this one is further down, and aches, until I bawl.

I'm tempted to say I'm sorry this post is a downer, but I'm not apologizing. I'm just saying that I regret that this is a very real part of my existence now, and I wanted to let you know about this side of it.

With love,

Sarah

Cuddly Yellow Blanket

 

 Buttery Snuggle Blanket

 This is a blanket I started out just because I had a pretty yarn! It was soft, and I loved the yellow with little tufts of other colors. I only got 2 skeins, though, because it was in the clearance bin and that's all there were.

I probably could have started out smaller, or swatched the gauge, but I didn't, so this is the blanket after I used up both skeins:

 I took the picture while yarn hunting. My goals were: color match, and just as soft and nice to the touch. For this particular project, I was not being picky about the material.

Here you can see it close up, along with some of the tufted colors (which were orange, purple, lavender, pale green, and white). The skeins below are some of the chenille I found that matched what I wanted:

 

Here you can see the brand and style. I got several skeins of yellow, which I used most of, and one skein of each accent color.

Here they are all together, with my started piece on top:

 So then I had to figure out how I wanted to proceed. I figured out I wanted a narrow stripe of accent color right next to the first portion, and I decided the purple might be best. But I got this far and realized I didn't know how wide I wanted the yellow to be:

Well, I did a bunch of calculations for proportions of the blanket, and based on the width I had, and only one stripe of each accent color, I was able to figure out how wide to make the yellow stripe, at least approximately, and then once I had the first one done, I knew how many rows to make the subsequent yellow stripes:

And here is the finished product. Super cuddly, warm, snuggly, and wonderful. I originally thought I'd make a baby blanket from that variegated yarn, but once I got going, I realized it was closer to crib size... and now I just love it too much, and it's my lap blanket for couch snuggles. It's wonderful.

Yours,
Sarah

By The Numbers

By the Numbers

The Statistics of Baby Loss

Hi Friends,

  This is going to be a brief explanation of the statistics of baby loss you may see floating around. Some are true, some are false, and most are simply a little misleading unless you hear where the numbers are from. I will be including my sources wherever possible.

"I'm the 1 in 4". You hear people say that 1 in 4 women experiences pregnancy loss (i.e., miscarriage or stillbirth). It turns out that this statistic is based on number of pregnancies, not number of women, so what it means is that 1 out of every 4 pregnancies does not successfully result in a live birth. I am working on finding out if this includes pregnancies where the mother didn't yet know she was pregnant (in which case, it would be a smaller percentage of known pregnancies, since many pregnancies just end up being the next cycle), or whether this is just from known pregnancies, in which case it's a very high number. I'm also looking into whether this statistic is world-wide or just the US. I'm having some trouble finding the data on this today, but I know it's out there.

Miscarriage A pregnancy loss in the first 20 weeks of pregnancy

Stillbirth A pregnancy loss in the 20th week and beyond (in the US) or 25th week and beyond (Global Health Organization standards) - but the baby is not born alive (https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/stillbirth/facts.html). According to the Center for Disease Control (CDC, an American agency), about 1% of all pregnancies end in stillbirth. According to the World Health Agency (WHO), it's more like 1.8%, and much of it preventable (http://www.who.int/reproductivehealth/topics/maternal_perinatal/stillbirth/en/). This cool data chart (GHO Stillbirth rates by Country) lets you look up rates world wide. According to this chart, the percentage in the United States is about 0.3%. There are some countries with high rates like 2.25%, and others with low rates (Iceland, for instance, at 0.13%).

"There are 25,000 stillbirths a year" Just about, if you only consider the United States. According to the CDC, the data from 2013 shows that 24,000 babies are stillborn each year in the United States. According to WHO, "Every year, worldwide, [...] 2.6 million babies are stillborn" (http://www.who.int/mediacentre/news/releases/2016/stillbirths-neonatal-deaths/en/).

Obviously, this barely scratches the surface, and I will be doing a follow-up post at some point, with more details.


Most sincerely yours,
~ Sarah

New Year's Day, 2018

Happy New Year!

... Right?

A reflection on common holiday phrases

I have seen some other loss mamas posting on Facebook about how they don't like the phrase "Happy New Year". I can fully understand that, since it sounds like the person is saying the year is happy. For me, though, they are wishing me a happy new year. In other words, they are saying "I hope this new year is happy for you". I can get behind that. I hope it's happy too. But even this interpretation still lacks something for me, and perhaps others who are grieving too: Because we know we won't be happy, at least not all the time. And I know no-one is happy all the time, but when you're grieving, there are often more moments and more intense times of seriously not happy. And we know with certainty that we will experience those not-happy times.

I'm not saying to stop wishing me a happy new year (or, for that matter, a merry Christmas). I really want it to be happy, and I appreciate that you want it for me too. Just be aware that I may not be able to have a happy holiday. I may not enjoy it, or at least not all of it. In fact, parts of it may trigger being sad. And I can't view the phrase with quite the same innocent confidence as I used to.

My Christmas was largely a good one. I was not particularly Merry™, but I tried to stay reasonably cheerful and interested in what was going on. For the most part, I succeeded, and enjoyed being around family, opening presents, listening to Christmas music, and actually having 4 whole days with hubby while he was off work. I did not, however, enjoy every minute. In fact, I was caught by surprise in the Christmas Eve church service (despite knowing that it might be difficult to get through), by a sudden rush of rage and grief, that Mary got to hold her baby alive. I know, I know, he later dies. But I lost my son before birth, and never got to see his eyes open or hear his voice. And listening to a sermon and many songs all about a family where the baby did fine, well... I was not fine.

And my new years, you ask? It was ok. It was actually pretty pleasant, if low key. And actually, I think keeping it low key helped me stay on an even keel. Honestly, the only thing we did differently than a normal evening when hubby is home and not working, was that we added sparkling grape juice to our evening. It also helps that growing up, this was not a big holiday for me; the holiday has nothing to do with babies (as long as you don't look at old year/new year cartoons); and that I have no special events associated with the holiday, either that I would want Charlie here for, or that have to do with Charlie's pregnancy.

All this to say, be gentle with those grieving around the holiday. We see the world, the holiday, the phrases and greetings, through different eyes.

Love to all,

Sarah