Pookie Helps Pack!

(Topic: Moving, Anxiety)

Hi Friends,

I think I've dropped a few hints, so you may have gathered: we're moving this summer! (Obviously, for privacy, I'm not posting about where or when...)

As you can imagine, it's a bit of an emotional mixed bag, especially since I don't know what it will be like living farther away from Charlie's grave. I am excited, though, about some aspects, such as having a larger kitchen and a lovely deck on our new house!

Here's Pookie, showing off our new front step and our new fireplace!!

This was when the landlord was redoing carpet and cleaning the house, so don't mind the floor. Isn't the mantle nice, though?

 I'm already thoroughly sick of boxes. But Pookie is pretty game, and helps out a lot!

There's a lot done, but still a lot to go...

Tape hat??

What a goof!!

We have packed a whole WALL of boxes! Pookie thinks we should reassemble them into a castle fort.

Handsome no matter the backdrop ♡

Helping pack a fragile box. He thinks it should say "Handle with Bear".

Packing paper bath!!!

Uh oh, someone found the labels...

Stay tuned for a post this Saturday about how to fix socks that are too tight :)
See you soon!


Yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Links to posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them! Nothing else gets emailed.

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss

Pot Scrubber

(Topic: Crocheting)

Hi Friends!

Here's a little thing I threw together recently. One of my sisters bought a pot-scrubbie at a store for a dollar or two, but I realized that it would probably be easy to make and wanted to try my hand at it.

I took a plastic net from a bag of oranges, and cut it into one long (zig-zaggy) strip about an inch wide. Using that as my "yarn", I started crocheting in a circle. I stopped when I ran out of "yarn" and ended up with about a 2.5" or 3" scrubbie!

Yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Links to posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them! Nothing else gets emailed.

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss

Am I Strong?

(Topic: grief, strength, definitions)

Hi Friends,

Several times recently, I have been told I am strong. Over the last few years, it's happened a few times more. Most frequently I have been told this by strangers, who don't know anything about me, and who have just heard about Charlie - and if I'm not crying, then I'm "strong" and they don't think they could have done it.

Here's the thing: They could have done it.

I had two choices: live with it somehow, or don't live.

People don't seem to realize that what they're proposing as an alternate option is suicide, and get really uncomfortable if I point that out. Suicide was never an option for me, but I know people who have been suicidal or who at least wish they were dead - so they could be with their child. I get it. That's just not how I think of it (for me, personally). I don't wish I were dead, I wish Charlie were alive.

So, since suicide wasn't an option for me, I lived with it. With my new, terrible, sucky reality. Living with it does not make me strong. I see myself as weaker than before, actually. But let's take a sec to define what strong means, because that's actually the crux of this matter. What do people mean when they say "you're so strong"?

a) that I can deadlift 150 lbs?
b) that I don't show emotion in public?
c) that I DO choose to talk about hard topics in public?
hint: it's not a.

B and C are usually not used by the same person, because they have contradictory meanings. And that's where I run into issues. When strangers use the word "strong" on me, I have no idea what meaning they are using it as, and since our culture usually goes with B, it's pretty certain that's what the stranger means. But is that really strength?

One loss mom talks about strength here, and she seems to view "strength" as a mask you put on - so more like B. In fact, that definition seems to be pretty culturally prevalent, actually.

But admitting that something is hard - and being open about it - and being emotional and vulnerable in public - is actually more work, and so some people choose to understand "strong" to mean option C.

Unfortunately, option B and option C are completely diametrically opposed, and having ONE word mean TWO OPPOSITE THINGS is really, really problematic. So if someone says I'm being strong, I have no idea if they mean I'm repressing my emotion to appear unmoved in public, or if they mean I'm being "bravely open about it". As you might guess, I really don't find the first option to be a great or healthy idea. (I am not talking about whether or not you choose to share about your loss. That's a different topic entirely. I'm talking about how people respond once you do decide to share.)

A few paragraphs ago I mentioned that I feel like I'm weaker than before. Here's why I say this: In a world where I had one choice (in my mind), which was to live with what had happened - somehow - because the alternate was to devastate my husband further (and because I want to be with him, and wish Charlie were here, not that I were dead with Charlie...), in this world where I had one choice, I chose it. I lived. My reality sucks, sometimes, though. Before Charlie died, minor things going wrong didn't upset me as often, or to the level, that they upset me now. Before Charlie died, I wasn't overwhelmed as often. Before Charlie died, I could sometimes comfort or help other people without becoming upset myself. And because one of the prevalent views of strength in our country is to not need help - and being upset usually involves needing help, or comfort, or some sort of assistance - it did not and does not feel like strength. It feels like weakness.

But this is not the side of me that most people see.

Most people see me in "public" because they are the "public". I often reserve crying and shows of emotion for at home. In fact, our culture often expects men to "be strong" for their wife - which means that grieving men are expected to not show emotion when their wife shows emotion - which is not healthy for the grieving man, either.

Repressing emotion isn't healthy for any of us, but it can feel shameful, embarrassing, or weak to cry or show sadness or other related feelings (depression, anxiety, being overwhelmed, PTSD) in public. So, many grieving parents squash or hide it, and even if they choose to talk openly and passionately about their loss and even if they are activists for change in the world of pregnancy and infant loss, it often comes with the parent quashing the feelings that would be considered "weak emotion" when in public.

So if you ever want to say I'm strong, know that I'm struggling with how our culture usually defines the word, regardless of how you mean it. Please consider being more specific about what you say ("you are brave to speak out about your child" or "I feel like I would cry all the time. I bet it's hard."). Each loss parent has different phrases or topics that might be difficult, so think about what you say - but don't let that stop you from talking to us. It's hard to reach out when you are grieving, and it can be isolating. If I don't say yes right away, don't force me, just be patient and ask again another time. And if you aren't sure about whether something you say would be a phrasing that might bother someone, explain what you are trying to mean, and ask them how they would like you to say it. I know I truly appreciate the people to take a minute to try to understand my worldview, and language is an important aspect of it.

Love to you and all of yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Links to posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them! Nothing else gets emailed.

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss

Spinach Boats

(Topic: food, crafts)

Hi Friends!

Just a little fun one today.

Spinach boats were a meal I looked forward to as a kid! The potatoes can be boiled or baked, but then cut in half, place a slice of cheese on top, and place in the oven to melt the cheese. In the meantime, cook spinach. When you arrange them on a plate, and add a triangle of paper on a toothpick for a sail, you have a boat on the weedy seas!

I have to admit, though, as an adult who is also interested in tall ships (sailing ships), I may have gotten a bit carried away...

Preparing the sails

Sails for a brigantine

My regatta!!

And the brigantine herself!

Yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Links to posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them! Nothing else gets emailed.

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss

My Breath Away

(topic: grief triggers, happy reminders)

Hi friends,

Last summer, I took a picture and made some notes for this post, and I want to share them with you now.

For some reason, there was a summer service at church that got changed around, and we missed the notification that the service was going to start an hour earlier than normal, so we snuck in for the last few minutes... and the closing hymn. Being late, even if it's due to unusual circumstances, is very overwhelming to me, so I was already a bit thrown off just from walking in at the end instead of the beginning. So here are the words to the last verse of the closing hymn:

v5:
Let us build a house where all are named,
their songs and visions heard
and loved and treasured, taught and claimed
as words within the Word.
---
Built of tears and cries and laughter,
prayers of faith and songs of grace,
let this house proclaim from floor to rafter:
(refrain:)
All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place.

All Are Welcome Episcopal hymnal 1982, hymn #641

As you might imagine, that particular set of words struck some chords in me. The words "all are named" and "tears and cries" particularly. This is an example of a non-obvious trigger. An obvious trigger would be things like going back to the hospital where Charlie was born, or seeing an infant that looks like him, or seeing a stillbirth in a tv show. A non-obvious trigger can be nearly anything! Really, anything that makes me think of the sad parts of Charlie or how I miss him, or the trauma aspects of finding out he had no heartbeat, etc. So in this case, "all are named" hit me hard because it means so much to me that we named Charlie and had him baptized. So I know that Charlie is included in this song.

Another trigger that hit me that day, was right after service concluded, and I used the ladies room: the changing table in there has a picture on it that also meant something to me personally:

A baby tiger...

If you've read my blog posts before, you know that tigers, particularly cubs, represent Charlie for us. So this was another little symbol, out in the world, that was a sweet (if wrenching) reminder of our little one.

I'm sharing this story to show that triggers are not always bad - sometimes they are reminders of his life, or his inclusion in our religion. But I'm also sharing just to show how hidden and common triggers can be.

Yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them!

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss

Blue and White Handtowel

(Topic: Knitting)

Hi Friends!

I have been knitting a bunch this week. This particular pattern was nice and easy - I actually specifically picked it out to be one where I mostly don't have to look at the pattern (unlike the green lacy cowl I am still plugging away at...), so it's easier to do in the car on road trips.

This pattern is called the "At Your Service Knit Cloth" by Yarnspirations, and the yarn I used was from Plymouth Yarn, called "Fantasy Naturale" and is 100% cotton.

Isn't the yarn pretty? I think the pattern really only would have needed one skein of this particular yarn, but I got 2 so I can do the color change. Since I'll have extra, though, I'm going to make another one with the colors reversed!

The bottom portion of the dishcloth, up till the color change.

Here's a close up of the decreases that taper the top of the towel. The edges of the towel are garter stitch, the center is seed stitch.

Done with the body of the towel, working on the hanging loop! The stitch marker is where the button will go.

Done with the top! The buttonhole only accommodates about a 3/4" button.

Folded over, like it will when hung up.

Ta Da! We've been using it this week, and I really like it so far!

Yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Links to posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them! Nothing else gets emailed.

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss

Mother's Day and Father's Day on my Mind at Once - Plus Tips on How to Support a Grieving Loved One

(Topic: grief, holidays, support)

I know a mama who planted an azalea for every one of her babies who died. This one in my yard makes me think of her.

Hi Friends,

This post is a bit later than I'd intended, because this week is a tough one for loss families of many kinds. Being a mother who lost a child (at any age), or being a child (of any age) who lost a mother at some point - or being a non-traditional mother in any way you might be able to think of - all make Mother's Day a particularly tricky holiday, since much of the publicity and focus of the holiday is on a traditional mother with traditional living children of her own DNA.

There is actually an International Bereaved Mother's Day, which is on the 1st Sunday in May instead of the 2nd Sunday - primarily used to specifically support loss moms and to raise awareness. However, regular Mother's Day was actually founded in honor of a loss mom, so opinions are mixed about whether having a separate day is necessary or helpful.

Because of my background, I'm going to focus more on my personal experience of being a mother who lost a pregnancy (and thus a baby), but who isn't visible as a mother (because of having no living children).

A friend of mine suggested that this post should be tips on how to get through the holiday. I thought I'd seen some articles about that, and can't find ones with specific tips. My main thought for you, though, is just to listen to your gut: if you want to do things like church or brunch or being with family, do it! If you want to stay home, do that! Just communicate with your spouse or whomever you live with, so that everyone is on the same page, otherwise someone might have different expectations of what will happen, and that is a recipe for hurt feelings really easily, especially because we are more likely to be emotional. (I am going to link to some other articles, both for loss moms and for supporting friends and family, at the end of the post.)

Here's the thing for us, though, that complicates Mother's Day: we end up thinking a lot about Father's Day at the same time. I know they are a month apart, but the little boy who made me a mother was born on Father's Day, so thinking of him and the story of his death and birth all at once (because I'm thinking of how I'm a mom) also makes me think of the day he was born.

Last year, I followed my heart and figured out that I really wanted to have a more traditional Mother's Day, so we went to church, I got given a carnation, and I asked to be taken out to brunch even though I knew that being around so many families with kids would be hard. And it meant a lot to me, and went well.

This year, I don't know if it's me being more confident in my invisible motherhood or if I'm just in a different place in my life, or whether I have so much other stuff on my mind with our upcoming move etc, but this year I don't want all the trappings of Mother's Day. A friend asked if I would be ok with her sending me a card - and I am! I still appreciate having my mother-ness recognized. But I don't feel the need to be public about it this year. It's simplified by the fact that Mother's Day happens to fall on a family birthday this year, so we're really focusing the weekend on celebrating that birthday, which lets me largely ignore the other holiday aspect.

So here is my tip for family and friends who want to support a grieving family, whether it's Mother's Day, or Father's Day, or actually really any other holiday (because it will be on our mind that our little one should have been there and isn't): listen to the grieving parent. Listen to anything they say or hint about whether they are excited or uncomfortable, whether there are parts of the holiday they are not looking forward to or are nervous about. And respect that feeling: don't push them into doing something they aren't comfortable with. Also, ask if you're not sure! I really appreciated my friend asking whether I was comfortable getting a Mother's Day card. It left the choice in my hands, which meant I could respect my feelings in how I replied. Don't assume that the grieving family doesn't want to do something. They might want to, or they might have mixed feelings, or they might even change their mind just before hand, or even have to leave halfway through. Please respect that. By listening to their gut and their heart, they are taking care of their mental health.


Have a gentle Mother's Day, however you choose to do it. 💗

To the Mothers Hurting on Mother's Day (this article acknowledges the feelings you may have)

This Mother’s Day: Honoring the Mothers Whose Empty Arms Ache (this article also acknowledges your feelings)

7 Ways to Include the Grieving Mother on Mother's Day (for friends and family)

7 Ways to Remember the Hurting Mothers this Mother's Day (for friends and family)

Supporting the Mama Who is Pregnant After Loss on Mother’s Day (for friends and family supporting a mom having a subsequent pregnancy)

Supporting Your Friend On Mother’s Day: When The Day Is Not ‘Happy’ (some ideas for moms, and several helpful ones for friends and family)


Yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Links to posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them! Nothing else gets emailed.

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss

New Cowl

(Topic: Knitting)


I know, I know, I haven't finished the green leafy one. But wait till you see this yarn! I got to pet a finished cowl made with this pattern and this yarn, and it feels like a CLOUD. It was amazing!

The "Kid Seta Cowl" looks pretty awesome.

The Adriafil lace yarn feels fantastic, and is going to be sooooooo pretty!

Can't wait to show you how it progresses!!!

Yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Links to posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them! Nothing else gets emailed.

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss

Pookie's Roles

(Topic: weighted bears and how they can help with grieving, personal observations)

Hi Friends,

I've had Pookie featured on this blog a lot. If you're new, Pookie is the weighted bear we have, representing our stillborn son Charlie (Pookie's introduction is here, and Charlie's story is written out here). So you know, because I will reference it below, Pookie physically represents Charlie because he matches Charlie's weight (Pookie weighs 6 pounds 5.3 ounces), and coincidentally is also the same length as Charlie (18").

As you've probably noticed, I have a lot of pictures of Pookie out and about with me. The pictures of him are not just in my home or at Charlie's grave, but are also in public places such as parks, museums, or with family. I take Pookie to church, to visit family, and I sometimes choose to take him other places.

Today I want to take a minute to talk about why Pookie is with me a lot, and about how many different things Pookie does for us! He wears so many hats.

Silly Pookie! That's a Dad Joke!

Pookie is my son's avatar

"Avatar" means representative or placeholder or manifestation. So for us, Pookie is a physical way to represent Charlie, like if we're taking a family photo. It doesn't seem like Charlie is missing from the photo (at least not as much) if Pookie is in the picture. The same is true of family events: if Pookie is there, Charlie is represented and it feels like Charlie himself is "there" as part of the family. As I mentioned in the intro above, Pookie is not just a symbol we arbitrarily picked, but because of his weight, he uniquely represents our baby.

A brand new Pookie (as yet un-nicknamed) with a picture of Charlie, at the first Christmas.

Pookie is a "baby"

Because of Pookie's baby-like weight, he serves very physically as a way to fill empty arms. Especially early after Charlie died, my arms literally hurt or felt weird, because they weren't holding a baby and were supposed to be. (This is not an unusual issue to have, by the way. Having "aching" or empty-feeling arms is normal.) The size and weight of Pookie helps calm that feeling. Sometimes if I'm having a really bad day, I'll put on music and rock and bounce Pookie while I cry - because then it moves me into and through the emotion and I can be sad for a time, and still have part of the day where I don't feel bogged down by grief, rather than me bottling it up or just being cranky all day. (And because he is heavy like a baby, he's not as easy to carry or stuff into something like other teddies. This is why you'll sometimes see me use a sling or a baby carrier for him, or I'll carry him on my hip. It's simply more practical and makes my arm and shoulder hurt less - but it's also snuggly.)

Pookie and me snuggling during a hike.

A rougher day.

Pookie is a weighted blanket

If my grief-anxiety is bad, lying down with Pookie on my chest is extremely calming. His weight and pressure, like that of a weighted blanket or a thunder shirt, are calming and reassuring. I do my best to remember to pick him up if I'm feeling fretful or unhappy or cranky, and when I remember, it really helps. My husband knows that if I'm having a bad day, I won't always remember because I'm feeling bad and having trouble thinking, so sometimes he'll hand Pookie to me. Once Pookie is in my arms, I will remember what to do. Holding him is good, lying down with him snuggled on top of me is better.

Because it's not as photogenic to get the back of Pookie's head, and because I'm usually feeling really low at the time, I have no photos of Pookie actually being a weighted blanket bear for me.

This was a pause between weighted blanket sessions.

Pookie is a therapy dog

Similarly, Pookie serves like a therapy dog: when I am anxious in public or at a particular function that is very hard for me (such as an event that will have a lot of triggers), being able to hold him, stroke his fur, or cuddle him can keep me calmer and able to function in that environment, when I would otherwise be unable to participate or possibly even unable to be there at all. If I am having a hard day, having him with me can be the difference between leaving the house and getting things done, versus staying in bed all day and crying.

Exploring a city on my own can be nerve-wracking, so that was one time I decided to bring Pookie along (also, it was a fun adventure too!). This was on the USS Constitution (Old Ironsides) in Boston.

Pookie is a memory-maker

This is probably what you see the most on the blog. I take Pookie places, or we take Pookie places with us. We pose him, and we take pictures of him "doing" things. He has his own wardrobe of clothes, and we change him depending on the activity or where we're going. We do this because Charlie's death robbed us of Charlie's future. We had planned and hoped to do many things with Charlie as he grew up. We can't do any of them with him now. So doing things with Pookie as a stand-in means we are still making new Charlie-related memories, and getting new Charlie-related pictures, despite never having new memories of Charlie himself, or new pictures to share of Charlie growing and playing.

Many of the pictures I take are of our daily life, and texted to Daddy to cheer him up throughout the day. Here's Pookie helping with the groceries.

Watering Charlie's plants.

Pookie is a playful way to connect with each other

Have you ever seen an adult make a doll "talk" to a baby? We don't make Pookie have a voice of his own, but we do playact that he has opinions (always told to the other person in third person, like "Sweetie, Pookie says blueberries are the best"). We also make him wave, snuggle, hug, and sometimes mime things out. We do this in our imagination. We know that in physical reality, Pookie is a teddy bear. He is not alive, and does not have opinions. As adults, we are fully aware of this! We imagine with Pookie for fun, and it actually allows me and my husband to bond, too, and sometimes provides a way for us to tell each other things ("Pookie says mommy had a hard day, so he gave her lots of snuggles". Of course I could just say "I had a hard day and could use a hug". And sometimes I do! But using Pookie can be a more playful way to do it). Additionally, because we've been doing this for a while, and started being more consistent about some things, we've essentially created a character that we now have to be consistent to. For instance, the character of Pookie likes salmon (because bears eat that) and blueberries (again, bears eat them, but also because he's blue). The character makes dad jokes sometimes, usually when Daddy is helping him wave, pose, and tell things to Mommy! The character has a little bit of sass and backtalk, but always lovingly. And baseline, Pookie's physical presence is meant to be calming and snuggly, so his character is loving and open and accepting.

Lately, reading books to Pookie is one way we imagine-play with him. Here he is, waiting for us to be done brushing our teeth.

Pookie is an ambassador (ambearssador, according to daddy)

Because Pookie is out with us all the time, many people ask about him. Or at least, make comments that could be interpreted as interested! So I often end up explaining what Pookie is to other people, which often means that I also end up explaining how Charlie died, and what infant loss is, or is like, or how it happens, or how often it happens, etc. So Pookie is a conversation starter to help Stillbirth Awareness. If people are familiar with the idea that pregnancy and infant loss happens frequently, and  know that it is a problem, then people will research and try to reduce the problem, and there will actually be good support for people living through it. Also, if people know about the issue and about support for it, then more people like me will feel comfortable taking their support items in public, rather than getting isolated on grief days because they don't feel comfortable carrying their doll or bear (or whatever helps them) into a public space for fear of being judged. As someone who carries a teddy openly and publicly, though, I can say that people have never said anything rude to me about the bear to my face. Not even once.

Pookie helping with the groceries, being pretty obvious in public. He has his own business cards, too, to hand to people who aren't as comfortable asking questions. Pookie is even happy to let other people hold him, so they can understand how his weight feels!

Thank you for learning about Pookie! If you have any additional questions about the roles he plays in our life, I'd love to hear and see if I can explain!

Yours,

Sarah

To subscribe, find the "subscribe by email" note in the left column and enter your email there. Links to posts will be emailed directly to you whenever I post them! Nothing else gets emailed.

Resource list: Visit my spreadsheet at www.tinyurl.com/infantloss