Home Burial by Robert Frost
When I picked up a stack of reading for my MFA graduate student residency I had no idea that one little poem could touch me so vividly. Home Burial, by Robert Frost. I read the poem for a class on dialogue in literature. Home Burial was an example of dialogue used cleverly within poetry. Once I started reading I realized that the action of the poem is the argument between a married couple. Their baby had died. The husband buried the child in a plot on what I imagine to be their family farm. The couple are grieving very differently, they are hostile towards each other, and they sometimes seem like strangers. Marriage after the loss of a baby can be strained. The tragedy can bind two hearts together or tear them apart. What I learned in class is that Robert Frost...
Read MoreWeights and Measures – The Impact of our Unseen Children
This is a speech I wrote for the Parent Care Candlelight Service on December 19. The chapel was full and I barely made it through my reflections as the love and longing for unseen children was so palpable. We are still in the midst of the holiday season with New Years on the way. I hope my words may continue to be an encouragement. Love always. The holidays are a time for togetherness, board games, gifts, and food. It is also a time for reflection. Since I am cooking my very first Christmas dinner this year, I started to reflect on food. I now have a folder full of recipes ready for the meal-of-the-year but my palms begin to sweat as I remember all the truly terrible meals I have made over the years. When the...
Read MoreAnswerless Questions after the Death of a Child
Is it a form of self-torture to ask yourself questions you’re aware have no answers? I’ve been mentally debating this lately. What is your opinion? At my daughter’s birthday party a while back one of the young guests’ parents came up to me and startled me with what he said. (Let’s call him Tim.) Tim had just been speaking with my husband Aaron and I guessed that they had been talking about Zachary. It turned out that Tim was a pediatric physician and he told me that if Zachary had lived he would have been in Tim’s care. This startled me because I had never thought about what type of post delivery care my son would have needed if he lived. At the time of the birthday party I did not let myself think about Tim’s words, busy with face painting and cake cutting, but...
Read MoreObjects that Help us Remember
One of the tough parts about losing a child is the lack of physical mementos of their life. It is easy to take stock of what I have that reminds me of Zachary: A blanket One sleeper The bear the hospital gave my husband and I His newborn identification bracelet One unfinished album of photographs A velvet blue box containing the urn of my son’s ashes The cards and few gifts that we received at the memorial This collection seems small but I know very well that it is more than some people have. For some there are no objects that remind them of their child. This may be especially true for those who have an early miscarriage. I’m a collector at heart – not of the expected sort of things like stamps or records or coins. As a child I plucked rocks from beaches and...
Read MoreBedtime
Tonight, my son Eden did not want to be alone. As he lay in his crib, drowsy yet awake, he rolled over again and again to make sure I was still there. I did not want to be alone either and picked up my baby and he curled himself around my shoulder in response, my cheek resting on his head. I rocked him, hummed ‘his song’ and simply let our bodies be warm and snuggly together. These are the precious moments of parenthood. As I rocked Eden to sleep, my thoughts flashed quickly to Zach. For all the thousands of bed times I wish I could rock him to sleep, I somehow must be content with the one chance I had to hold him in my arms. I still remember the embrace fondly. I cradled him many hours after he was still. Pulling him close, I smelled his skin and kissed his...
Read MoreThree Years of Remembering and Unexpected Surprises
Zachary’s third birthday, also the day of his death, fell over the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend this year. This was timely as I have much to be thankful for regarding Zach. I am thankful for thirty weeks of kicks and the magic bond between mother and child. I am thankful for his life, however brief. I am thankful I held him alive for just a few moments. I am thankful for the strength he seemed to give me to survive. I am thankful that he has given me a passion to help others. I am thankful that I still feel him with me. It has taken me a month to write this post, not out of busyness, but because of what shocked me on the day we celebrated and remembered… We began Zachary’s birthday as we always do, with a plentiful breakfast and time as a family. My husband...
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