A place for grief and healing after the loss of a child
Disclaimer
If you are friends or family of ours, please do not be offended that I didn't share this site with you. You are more than welcome to stay, read and participate, but be aware that somethings said here are not directed at you. While some of the posts and comments might be uncomfortable for you, remember the purpose of this site: It's dealing with My pain and My Grief that you just can't understand until you lose one of your own. I know you want to help ease my pain (and you have in many ways) but there will always be burdens you can't help me with, so I turn to my fellow bereaved.
One year ago today I put our sweet Olivia back to bed after her 2am feeding. I rocked her to sleep, kissed her forehead, rubbed her cheeks, and whispered "I Love You, Sleep Well." Little did I know, as I quietly pulled the door shut and crawled back into bed beside Sara, that I had just spent my last moments with our precious Peanut.
The stillness of that Sunday morning was completely misleading, soon to be broken by the frantic cries and screams of breaking hearts and shattered lives. When I woke up to sun streaming into our room rather than cries from the baby monitor, I knew something was wrong. I checked the clock, it said 9am, a bit past Olivia's usual wake-up time. As soon as I opened the door to her room, I knew my recurring nightmare had come true. Holding my precious Olivia, still and lifeless, no cooing, no crying, no giggling, no wiggling, just still; a quiet peaceful look on her face. She had departed this life after fitting more into her 6 short months than many people experience in a lifetime.
Even though it's been quite a while since I written anything in this blog, it's never been far from my mind. The last months have had ups and downs, with the downs luckily not reaching depths that they did in the early months after Olivia's death. I have been able to set aside times to grieve, or at least control & suppress what 'normal company' would consider 'inappropriate' times to grieve in public. I've found that if I create a routine that allows for my private & sometimes public expression of grief, life proceeds much more smoothly. Even though the majority of Olivia's ashes are at home with us on her Memorial Shelf so she's with us every day, I still try to make it to Olivia's grave once a week.
Even though it's been quite a while since I written anything in this blog, it's never been far from my mind. The last months have had had ups and downs, with the downs luckily not reaching depths that they did in the early months after Olivia's death. I have been able to set aside times to grieve, or at least control & suppress what 'normal company' would consider 'inappropriate' times to grieve in public. I've found that if I create a routine that allows for my private & sometimes public expression of grief, life proceeds much more smoothly. Even though the majority of Olivia's ashes are at home with us on her Memorial Shelf so she's with us every day, I still try to make it to Olivia's grave once a week.
First I'd like to thank everyone who has provided us support since I started this blog, but especially the kind words over the last few weeks. It's obviously been a difficult couple of weeks since Olivia's 1st Birthday, but we have managed to make it through 'to the other side' and have grown in the process. Thanks.
There have been days recently where it seems easier to smile, I don't know if it's partly the slow movement from a long gray winter to the bright, crisp early signs of spring, a slow acceptance of what is and how life will be w/o her, or if it's just a temporary respite before the next storm?
Today you turn one year old. While I know you can't read yet, I still feel the need write you this note, maybe someday you'll cherish these words like we cherish you. No words can express the pride and joy you have brought to your mother and I. Even when you have a "Grumpy Morning," soon enough we are able to coax out that broad mischievous grin, before you know it we're all laughing. Sometimes I think you do that on purpose, just to squeeze out some extra time from me before I have to go work.
We would love to take you to the Zoo today, but given that it's February we'll have to wait a couple more months before the weather is warm enough for you to enjoy seeing all the animals. Instead I think we'll head over to Grandma's house and have a party there. I can't wait to see you dig into the cake, chocolate, with lots of frosting. I suspect you'll end up wearing more of it than actually eating it, but hey it's a party.
I just know when you see the stack of presents, you'll point and bounce up and down in your seat... yes we've spoiled you already, you know all about presents. When we set you on the ground you delicately stand, toddle a step or two, before landing on your backside and deciding that crawling is still much more efficient way to get to the presents. As you shake, throw and rip your presents, you chatter endlessly to yourself sometimes sounding like real words, but not distinct enough to really know.
After an exciting afternoon, you are never happy about taking a nap, fussing and crying all the while mom and I are hoping to get a nice nap too. Soon enough you sleep for a while and everyone feels much better for it. The rest of the day is spent playing with your new toys, the wrapping paper, and chasing your "itty" (kitty) around the room. When we finally tuck you in after a long and adventuresome day, you give us both a great hug and kiss (well a slobber), and tuck you into bed. We take turns reading the new Olivia book you got from Auntie Melinda, but within minutes you are sound asleep, smile plastered on your face. Happy in your own world of dreams.
Sweet Dreams my Love, Happy Birthday in your World.
If you have browsed across these pages, I'm sure you have been able to notice that music plays an important role in my life. When I'm not in the company of family and friends I can usually be found attached to a pair of headphones and an iPod. Growing up I was immersed in music from as early as I can remember. My parents always had music playing in the background - mainly classical. My brothers and I were always enrolled in some music class, whether violin, piano or voice up until we were out of high school. I do have to admit that while I enjoyed the music, I never had the talent to make much more of it than develop a lifelong enjoyment of all things musical. I provide this preface to give some more background to my use of songs as therapy during trying times in my life.
I will lay out the songs as they came to me chronologically and explain what grabbed me about them. Here's a LINK to the zip file with the full MP3's if you're interested in downloading the compilation (~80MB).
I really need to get a full listing together of songs that have helped me, maybe this weekend... In the meantime enjoy some Jack Johnson -- Monsoon
The refrain just grabs me
All of life
Is in one drop of the ocean waiting to go home
Just waiting to go home
And if the moon
Can turn the tides it can pull the tears
And take them from our eyes
Make them into monsoons
Turn them into monsoon-er or later
They’ll weep their way back to the sea
Gonna finally be free
Free for a while
Until they break
Like waves of sorrow always do all in due time
Because time never waits
Having survived our first set of 'Holidays' with our litle Olivia (wow I just typoed that as with our Olivia..) anyway let me start over...
Having survived our first set of 'Holidays' without our little Olivia, it has only brought us closer to another mountain to climb. Soon we will start hitting anniversary dates:
February 19th brings what should have been Olivia's 1st Birthday
March 13th brings her 1st successful open heart surgery
April 16th gave us the 'official diagnosis' of Alagille Syndrome
Even though February 19th obviously carries unspeakable importance, February 14th is going to hurt just as much if not more. The beyond obvious reason of Valentine's Day, 2/14/2010 will be the day that Olivia has been gone longer than she was with us. We were so fortunate to have our daughter for 5 months and 28 days, enjoying every moment (well almost all). Yet on Feb 14th, 2010 will be 5 months and 29 days that she our earthly plane.
Dates and times that would not have as much meaning if Olivia were still alive, take the place of her 'growing' milestones. We have to create our own markers to attach memories to, coloring all we do/see in the off colors jaded by sorrow. Everyone always told us "When you have your baby your life will change forever!" Little did they know how prophetic they would be, almost doubly so, because we were given the greatest gift one can receive, only to find out it wasn't ours to keep.... The swing from Highest of Highs to Lowest of Lows now colors everything I look at. It's like looking through a kaleidescope without the beautiful colors. Wandering through my life now I'm often reminded of a beautiful post a fellow grieving parent made on her blog about the long term shadow cast by the loss of a child on the landscape of one's life. (I've copied the entirety of her (andthroughthestorm's) post below to do full justice to the image. The original blog post can be found HERE-- I hope she doesn't mind. Visit their blog, it's well worth your time.)
I’ve had this picture in my head for a while and I’m now at the point that I’d like to share it. The picture is of a wide landscape which represents my life. My life goes from the left to right and as we move across time passes. On the left I cant see much on the very far edge, I’m young and I hate to say many of my memories have faded, it’s a bit misty. As time moves on there are hills and valleys, but on the whole its all fairly flat. The sun is high in the sky and even in the valleys it’s still pretty bright. Moving on there are a few valleys that are deeper and although they are lush and green on the way down the climb back up is rough, barren, hard and difficult to climb. In the centre of the picture I see the last few years. After a fairly deep and grim valley there begins to be beautiful flowers on the ground, slowly more and more till you reach a lush stunning garden full of colour and light. The flowers and beauty represent the time hubby and I were falling in love and the garden our wedding. The flowers continue out of the garden to the next landmark, a stunning glass prism, which as the light from sun strikes it floods the time from then on with an amazing rainbow of colours. The prism is the birth of our son. For a while the landscape continues with this wonderful scene , then all of a sudden the serenity is broken by a huge dark pillar of stone. The stone is by far the highest point on the whole horizon and it casts a shadow far to the right, but as time goes on the shadow weakens in its intensity and the light of the sun is more visible. At the base of the stone is a tiny climbing plant and as time passes this grows and eventually covers the dark bare stone in leaves of green and bright ruby red flowers. The stone is still large and makes the future quite dark, at least to start with, but in time stone is beautiful too.
At times it's hard to believe that any of what has happened in the last year is real, or ever was real. I'm surrounded by images, items, and reminders of a time that seems too long gone. Was that girl that nuzzled on my shoulder rubbing her face really mine, or has this all been a dream? I have flashes where the gravity of what we've lost it hits me. When I look, really look at pictures of Olivia, not just glance, I immediately get a constricting feeling in my throat, a slightly metallic taste in my mouth, a burning sensation in my eyes, followed by tears welling in my eyes, oh how I wish they were tears of joy. I guess I'm still too close to the monolith to get a true perspective on it. Hopefully in time, the stone will weather, the edges be less sharp, hopefully eventually it will lose it's stranglehold on sunlight that it seems to have at this time.
Let me end with another piece of music that's on my playlist right now:
My wonderful wife mentioned this song earlier today and I just had to re-listen to it. I'd always known that the song was about Eric Clapton losing his young son, the raw emotion can be felt in the song, yet I hadn't thought about it until Sara mentioned it.
Tears In Heaven
Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong
And carry on,
'Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven.
Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in heaven?
I'll find my way
Through night and day,
'Cause I know I just can't stay
Here in heaven.
Time can bring you down,
Time can bend your knees.
Time can break your heart,
Have you begging please, begging please.
Beyond the door,
There's peace I'm sure,
And I know there'll be no more
Tears in heaven.
Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong
And carry on,
'Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven.
A long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving
Oh the days go by so fast
And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass
I hope to get a longer post together soon about all the songs on Olivia's In Memoriam Playlist.
Surviving The Holidays™was actually more difficult than I could have imagined. In my naiveté or more likely state of denial, I had constructed an elaborate theory that since Olivia left us before we ever experienced a Christmas with her it wouldn't hurt as much because we didn't have any direct memories of 'Last Christmas.' Wow was I wrong....
My wife and I lost our beautiful little Olivia in Aug '09 to a rare genetic disease called Alagille Syndrome. We blogged about her battle with this condition at oliviahuelsbergen.blogspot.com , but since her death it just didn't feel right to continue blogging there. This new blog will hopefully let us express some of the difficult emotions and thoughts that accompany the loss of a child - no matter what age. Hopefully it will provide other grieving parents some comfort that they are not alone.
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